Masculum Graviditate
by ChibiAyane
Summary: Harry Potter/Voldemort. Horace Slughorn invented some new potions that allow a man to get pregnant. Lord Voldemort decides he wants to use them on Harry Potter. Dub-Con, Underage, Mpreg.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

**This is just an Mpreg idea that I had and decided to run with it. I already have several chapters written, but I could always use some more input to figure out where to go with this story. So, REVIEW PLEASE!**

"Speech."

'Thoughts.'

"~Parseltongue.~"

_Spells and potions._

* * *

**+Chapter 1: Prologue+**

**-Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, somewhere in Northern Scotland. Friday 22 December 1995. Final class period of the first semester for the Gryffindor 5th years - Double Potions with the Slytherins.-**

Harry was slumped in his seat in the dreary potions lab, resting his elbow on the table while his hand was holding his head up. He was dead tired - damn Umbridge and her thrice damned detentions! And damn Snape and his Occlumency lessons! He hadn't gotten a decent night's sleep in over a month! And any sleep he did get was wracked with nightmares. If it weren't for Hermione helping him and checking his work, he never would have even finished all of his homework; much less get passing grades! As it was, his grades were still suffering more than usual. And he couldn't even play Quidditch on his days off! What wouldn't he give to soar through the air on his broom, wind blowing through his hair?

Harry's eyes were just drooping shut when the door banged open and Hogwarts' own Dungeon Bat billowed into the room, his usual scowl in place. Harry's eyes snapped open once more as Snape stopped at the front of the class, glaring at every student before he spoke. "Everyone shut up and pay attention!" he snarled at them, even though the room was silent. This phrase and the obvious hostility was enough to tell the whole class that their professor was in an even fouler mood that usual. "Exciting news in the potions world has presented a few new potions to be added to the curriculum for the older students, starting with you idiots. They were presented to the Wizengamot and every potions journal in the world two days ago by their inventor; Horace Slughorn, Potions Master and former potions professor here at Hogwarts. The Wizengamot has since approved the potions, making it legal for them be brewed and sold by licensed Potions Masters. The Ministry has also sanctioned the notion that the brewing process be taught in classrooms by a licensed Potions Master, like myself." Here, Snape paused and let out an uncharacteristic sigh, as if he was dreading what he needed to say next. He sneered and continued. "I should hope that you all are old enough to know how babies are made and mature enough to keep your opinions on homosexuality to yourselves, so we'll put that explanation aside and get to the introduction of the new potions."

At this, he had everyone's undivided attention; some curious and interested, some wary and working their way up to disgusted. What did homosexuality have to do with making babies?

Snape grimaced and his sneer deepened. "As few people know, Horace Slughorn is a homosexual himself, and has been living together with his life partner for many years. And in all this time he has been endeavoring to create a way for two men to have a child together. An endeavor in which he has recently succeeded." Murmurs went through the classroom, mostly from the straight males who were grossed out and the purebloods who were thrilled with the opportunities this presented. Harry noticed Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini, especially, were making googly eyes at each other. Seamus Finnegan was waggling his eyebrows at the other boys, making most of them uncomfortable and Dean Thomas was shaking his head at Seamus' antics. But the face that made Harry snort with laughter was Ron's. He looked horrified and disgusted, the look was plain on his face for all to see and he was shifting in his seat, as if imagining having sex with another man and popping out a baby. Hermione had that glint in her eyes again; telling both Harry and Ron that she would be getting her hands on any article or potions journal she could, just to figure out how it all worked. Both of her best friends knew that, because of this announcement, she would be poor company to be in if one wanted to have a decent conversation, at least for the next week.

"Quiet!" Snape bellowed, waving his wand and making two very long sheets of instructions appear in front of each student. Harry picked his up and looked them over, reading one labeled as _'Masculum Graviditate'_ and the other labeled as _'Masculum Ovi Ubertatem'_. Glancing over the instructions, he noticed how complicated these potions were, each taking well over a month to brew as well as near constant overseeing. One needed to be stirred in a bizarre pattern every twenty minutes, for the entire brewing period!

"Now, I am required to explain to you all how the process goes, so none of you make any hasty decisions and resultant mistakes, doing yourselves irreparable harm," Snape continued. "These potions are both expensive and difficult to produce. I do not expect any of you or even the older students to successfully brew either of these potions." Snape smirked in satisfaction, happily rubbing it in all of their faces that their potion brewing skills were subpar, compared to his own. "This process, in essence, allows a man to get pregnant. It takes the use of both the potions in front of you and a new spell, also created by Horace Slughorn, to be successful. The spell you will be learning in Charms class. To become successfully pregnant, it takes three doses of the potion _'Graviditate'_ over the course of three days, preferably while the drinker is either unconscious or dosed with a pain relieving potion, as its effects are very painful. A week later, one would then take one dose of _'Ovi Ubertatem'_ - this potion isn't painful but is magically draining. Then, three days after that, you will need to use the spell called _'Seminis Inuerrere'_, followed by immediate intercourse." Snape's sneer deepened even more. "The Minister of Magic, Headmaster Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey would like me to stress to you all that if you ever decide to undergo this process, that it would be wise to have it overseen by a healer or mediwitch to be sure that everything goes as it should. There are several necessary spells that need to be used during the birthing process to... move things around, shall we say," Snape sighed again. "Thankfully, you will NOT be attempting to brew these particular potions until you reach NEWT level. You OWL students will only be studying the theory and preparations for the potions." There were groans of disappointment and sighs of relief all over the classroom.

Harry supposed it was a good thing, because he knew he would screw this up big time if he were to try brewing something this complicated on very little sleep. After laying the instruction sheets back down onto the table, Harry looked back up at Snape, expecting to be told what to do next. What he didn't expect was the hard unreadable look Snape gave him when they locked eyes. Harry's shoulders tightened, waiting to be insulted yet again for doing... whatever he might have done that Snape thought was wrong. But he was surprised again when Snape's gaze flicked away from him and over the rest of the class. 'What was that about?', Harry thought to himself.

The rest of the double potions class went as usual, with Snape ending the class with yet another warning about brewing or consuming these potions without supervision and assigning them extensive research and an essay on the theory of the new potions to be turned in when they came back from their holidays.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione dropped their stuff off at Gryffindor Tower before trudging down to dinner. The last dinner before the holidays. They sat down and started filling their plates, Ron stuffing his face in between asking questions about how those potions could possibly work.

"I's jus' no' possib'!"("It's just not possible!") Ron shouted with his mouth full, Harry translating the Mouth-Full-Ron-Speak in his head with practiced ease. "I me'... we 'on't ev' 'ave da righ' par's!" ("I mean... we don't even have the right parts!")

Harry shrugged and glanced at Hermione, who already had her nose buried in the latest issue of _Potions Quarterly_. There was a picture of a fat man on the cover, waving and smiling jovially; _'The Genius Horace Slughorn'_ was splattered across the page in big bold letters. It appeared as if Hermione didn't hear Ron or was just ignoring him in favor of her latest academic interest. He couldn't blame her; Ron was being rather gross again, eating and talking at the same time, spraying half chewed food all over the table in front of him. And, though Harry was loathe to admit it, these new potions were pretty interesting.

Ron swallowed his mouthful and continued. "I'm never popping a baby out my... Where would it even come out?! No way, only girls for me!"

Harry didn't want to agree. He really couldn't care less about gender when it came to whomever he would make a family with later on - if he ever got the chance that is. But he knew Ron was straight, so he just nodded as if to agree that Ron would never sleep with a man.

When they finished eating (Harry going so far as to pluck the potions magazine out of Hermione's hands and shoving her plate towards her when she scowled at him), they all turned to Dumbledore, who stood and started his speech about the winter holidays, telling everyone who was leaving to have a Happy Yule or a Merry Christmas. Harry was glad to be leaving for the holidays for once. He was going to Grimmauld Place to spend the holidays with Sirius and Remus and the Weasleys. Just one more blasted detention with Umbridge, and he was free!

* * *

**-Slytherin Castle, somewhere in Ireland. Same day.-**

The Dark Lord sat behind his desk in his study, skimming over the reports from his Death Eaters and absentmindedly glancing through the various news papers, magazines and editorials. He'd seen the one about Slughorn and his new inventions, and while he commended the man on his brilliance, it really didn't help him any, other than making it possible for him to choose anyone he wanted to produce an heir, male or female.

He'd just picked up a report from Lucius Malfoy, relaying his son's observations from inside the school, when an idea started to form inside his head without his notice. He grinned when he read about the hellishly bad school year Potter was having. 'Good, anything to keep that upstart busy and out of my hair!,' he thought to himself. And he did have hair; he ran his hand through it tiredly as he finished reading the report. It had taken a lot of research to come up with a potion that would give him his looks back. It took hours of research in Slytherin's personal library and the Malfoys' family library, as well as a few illegal and rare ingredients, including some stealthily obtained blood from Potter and basilisk venom from the dead beast in the Chamber of Secrets.

He'd almost gotten caught trespassing in Hogwarts when he went down to the chamber to get the venom. He'd anticipated Dumbledore putting up wards against him, but apparently the old coot had managed a few more wards than he'd thought. He tripped an alarm the moment he went into the girl's bathroom, but he'd gotten down to the chamber in record time and left through another exit, so he didn't run into anyone. He wasn't going to try that again anytime soon. He'd gotten Lucius to relay an order to his son to get him a phial of Potter's blood, which Draco had easily done by starting a fight with the rowdy Gryffindor on the first day of school, punching him in the nose and summoning the blood from the ground after Potter had gone to the hospital wing. Draco had come away with a black eye and bruised knuckles, but at least he'd succeeded. The potion worked, restoring the Dark Lord's features to what they were before his soul was ripped from his body, and leaving him looking like his twenty-something self as Tom Riddle. (The youthfulness he'd already managed via some other experimental potions in which he'd been dabbling before he'd started hunting the Potters.)

Except this last potion to restore his looks hadn't worked as well as he'd have liked. Yes, he looked handsome and young, but for the color of his eyes. They were his natural crystal blue most of the time, when he was calm, but they tended to change color with his mood. They turned deep crimson when he was enraged, a bright green - not quite as vivid as Potter's - when he was happy or excited, a dark wintery grey when he was filled with a murderous intent. He wasn't sure about other colors, he didn't feel many other emotions. He supposed his eyes were an effect of using the blood of the same person he'd used in his resurrection.

Lucius had asked why he needed more blood from Potter, thinking perhaps it was the same reason as needing his blood for his resurrection, and Voldemort was only too happy to tell him that no, it wasn't the same reason. He didn't need the blood of his enemy this time, he needed the blood of a wizard with power similar or equal to his own. And, since he would rather walk around looking like a snake, than have anything of Dumbledore inside him, that left Potter. Lucius didn't enjoy the subtle implication that Harry Potter was much more of a wizard than Lucius himself or Lucius' son was. The Dark Lord always did enjoy how easily Malfoy took things personally. The look of hate on his face whenever it was implied that someone was better than he, even if indirectly, was just too much fun not to instigate.

The Dark Lord sighed. "Such a pity that a bloodline as powerful as the Potters' will end," he muttered to himself. Then, the idea finished forming in his head and everything clicked into place and he took immediate notice of it. A slow smirk spread across his face.

The Darkest Lord of all time then stood from his desk chair, grabbing the latest copy of _Potions Quarterly_ and turned to make his way to his very own potions lab. He had potions to brew.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2: Christmas

**This chapter is a bit slow, but there are some important parts. The rest is Christmas fluff for you to enjoy.**

**Thank you Lisa for beta and proofing.**

* * *

"Speech."

'Thoughts.'

"~Parseltongue.~"

_Spells and potions._

**+Chapter 2: Christmas+**

**-Hogwarts Express, speeding towards London. Next day, Saturday 23 December 1995.-**

Harry had fallen asleep in his compartment on the train, his head resting on the cold window. Hermione sat beside Harry, reading yet another potions journal, and Ron was across from her eating Chocolate Frogs. Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood had joined them. Luna sat directly across from Harry, silently watching him as if he was one of the most interesting things in the world. Neville was talking to Ron about Quidditch, trying every now and then to change the subject to plants and Herbology, and failing every time.

Harry whimpered in his sleep, dreaming a bizarre dream that wasn't quite a nightmare, but it definitely wasn't a happy dream either. Hermione gently shook him awake. "Harry, you're having another nightmare," she told him quietly. He slowly woke up, opening his eyes and trying to focus his vision. When he did, he jumped out of his skin because suddenly Luna Lovegood was right in front of his face, their noses a mere inch apart. Her eyes were big and curious, watching him like he was some new creature she could write about in the Quibbler.

"Luna!" he shouted, holding a hand to his racing heart. "Don't do that!" He attempted to glare at her, but she just stared and examined him, her brow furrowing a little. "What?" he asked.

"Your dreams have changed," Luna stated. She stared at Harry for another moment, Harry staring right back and not knowing how to respond to that. Sure that last dream was different from usual but that didn't mean they would all be changed. "Someone has changed their mind...," she said, then sat back and turned to look out the window. "...almost."

Harry frowned at her. "Huh?" Harry stared at Luna, as she stared singing a song. Harry absently noted that Luna was a very good singer as he tried to remember his dream; it was about him and Voldemort, he knew that much, and there was a sense of something... earth-shattering. He turned his gaze to stare out the window; it was snowing outside. He sat listening to Luna sing a song that was like a fairytale, his mind wandering to other things.

They all turned to stare at Ginny when she came into the compartment, slammed the door, locked it, and drew the blinds. "Ginny?" Harry asked, as she just stood there, back to the door as if she was waiting for something. Their unasked questions were answered when Dean Thomas was heard running past their door, shouting Ginny's name. After he'd gone, Ginny relaxed, then sidled over to wiggle her way between Hermione and Harry. She sat quietly and used Harry as a head rest. Harry didn't mind, obviously there was something bothering his honorary sister and she needed comfort that wasn't one of her annoying blood brothers. "You alright?", he asked her.

"Yeah," she said easily, then snuggled into his arm and closed her eyes, appearing as though she was going to take a nap for the next couple of hours until they arrived at King's Cross.

"Okay," Harry said, not pushing the subject and turning back to stare out the lightly frosted window.

* * *

By the time they made it into London, they were mostly all asleep, Luna's singing lulling them into a restful slumber. Only she and Hermione were still awake.

As the train started to slow down, Hermione begrudgingly put her reading material away and began waking her friends. Luna finished singing and stood to take off her outer Wizarding robes. Ron and Neville woke slowly, both of them grumbling, as Ginny and Harry woke easily but groggily.

Harry had another odd dream about him and Voldemort again, only this time it was so messed up he was sure someone must have spiked his pumpkin juice before he'd left the school. How else would you explain having a dream about him and Voldemort sitting outside in a garden, watching a bunch of dark-haired, green-eyed children running around? It was a nice dream, but Harry would have appreciated it more if it had been someone, anyone, else sitting next to him in that garden.

Harry shook off the the dream and grogginess, standing up to take off his outer robes and stuff them into his trunk, as the train pulled into the station. He grabbed his trunk and dragged it off the train, rushing a bit in his eagerness to see his godfather. He knew full well that the Order wouldn't have been able to keep him from coming to get him. He was proven right when he stepped onto the platform and was tackled to the ground by a giant black dog. Over the sound of his own laughter, he heard several people giggle at the scene, as his face was thoroughly licked. "Let the poor boy up, won't you, Snuffles!" he heard Remus Lupin's voice say.

Harry laughed as he sat up, hugging the mass of shaggy black fur with a big smile on his face. He pulled away just in time to hear, "Nice mutt, Potter!" Harry turned and saw Draco Malfoy sneering at him and Snuffles. Harry scowled at him for a moment, then glanced at Snuffles and turned a mischievous grin towards Malfoy, who furrowed his brow in apprehension.

"Why, thank you, Malfoy! He is a beauty, isn't he?" Harry told him loudly, catching several peoples' attention. Malfoy grimaced as Harry continued. "He has such soft fur, big shiny eyes, a tail that never stops wagging and...," he paused long enough for Snuffles to lick his face again. "Really sharp teeth!" Harry finished, grinning wolfishly, as Snuffles didn't miss a beat and bared his teeth at Malfoy, growling and advancing on him. Malfoy shrieked and hid behind his mother, who was scowling at Harry and the dog. Harry burst out laughing and Snuffles turned back to Harry and licked him again. Harry's laughter was joined by the laughter of the Weasleys and several other Order members. Harry turned and smiled at them all, noticing that Remus was just shaking his head at them, a small grin twitching at the corners of his mouth. Harry and Snuffles grinned up at him sheepishly, as Remus reached to help Harry up off the ground.

"Come along, you two!" Remus said, conjuring a leash that he put around Snuffles' neck. Snuffles glared up at Remus, literally managing to make his canine face fall into a frown. Harry stifled a laugh, before he turned to say goodbye to Hermione, Luna and Neville. After saying his goodbyes, Harry and the others - Snuffles, Remus, the Weasleys and the Order members - took the Knight Bus to Number 11 Grimmauld Place and waited until the Bus left before moving on to Number 12.

* * *

**-Number 12 Grimmauld Place, London. Same Day.-**

As soon as they got through the door, Sirius changed back into his human form and engulfed his godson in a huge hug, making Harry smile and hug him back.

"I've missed you, Siri!" Harry said, relaxing into his godfather's arms.

"I've missed you too, pup!" Sirius answered, holding his godson in an almost crushing embrace.

"Sirius, he still needs to breathe!" Remus told his best friend.

Sirius looked at Remus and then reluctantly let go of Harry. "Right!" Sirius said, making Harry chuckle. "Well, I bet you're starving! Let's go make dinner!" he exclaimed and grabbed Harry and Remus' hands and started tugging them toward the kitchen.

"But I need to put my stuff away!" Harry told him.

"It can wait 'til later!"

"...Okay," Harry replied, and went with Sirius.

Molly Weasley followed them as the others went about settling in. "Sirius, please let me make dinner. I don't want to clean up another one of your messes!" she said as they stepped into the kitchen.

Sirius pouted and mumbled, "It's my kitchen, I can make a mess if I want to."

"Be that as it may, we would do better to allow those who know what they're doing to cook tonight. The children need to be fed something edible!" Molly argued. Sirius went to open his mouth to argue back when Harry spoke up.

"How about we just work together? That way we can get it done faster and make sure the kitchen doesn't get destroyed," he suggested. Molly and Sirius looked at him sheepishly and nodded, Remus smiling knowingly. Harry smiled and went about the kitchen like he owned the place, looking to see what there was for ingredients.

"We should have everything for a nice beef stew," Molly supplied, pulling out ingredients and charming the vegetables to cut themselves up.

Harry smiled and kept looking, finding a cupboard full of confectionery supplies and ingredients. "I'll make dessert then!" he said.

"Oh, Harry, don't be silly," Molly said, not even turning away from the stove to look at him. "You go sit and relax, you're a teenage boy, you shouldn't even be in the kitchen!" Harry frowned and Sirius scowled at Molly.

"If he wants to make dessert, then let him make dessert!" Sirius barked, startling Molly.

Molly looked to Harry and gave him a soft smile. "Do you even know how to make a dessert?"

"Yes," Harry said seriously. "I do all the cooking at the Dursley's." Molly frowned. "And I like baking," Harry added with a smile. He looked back into the cupboard and smiled wider. "There's everything I need for a chocolate cream pie."

Sirius and Remus both perked up. "Chocolate?" Remus asked hopefully.

"Pie!" Sirius cheered. "Harry knows how to make pie!" and he grabbed his godson in another bone crushing hug. "I love pie and I love you!"

"I can tell!" Harry giggled. And with that Molly conceded to let Harry make dessert. Soon thereafter, dinner was finished. When everyone came down, the kitchen was quickly filled to the breaking point; Harry, Remus and Sirius, all of the Weasleys (minus Bill, Charlie and Percy), Tonks, Kingsley and a few other Order members. They ate and talked loudly, several people exclaiming over the delicious dessert pies, before Molly ordered everyone to bed.

Harry was about to follow Ron into the room they shared, when Sirius spoke up behind him. "Pup, there's something I want to show you. Will you come?" Harry turned and saw Sirius standing there fidgeting next to Remus at the top of the steps. He nodded and told Ron that he'd be back soon, and then followed his godfather and honorary godfather up another flight of stairs. They stopped at a closed door that was just down the hall from Sirius' room. "Open it," Sirius said, gesturing to the door. Harry did as told and opened the door into a dark room, but as soon as the door was opened, candles lit themselves all over the room, to illuminate a rather plain and simple but fairly large bedroom. There was a big four poster bed, a small writing desk with a chair, and a wardrobe. The big bay window had a window seat. There was also a door leading off to a small en suite bathroom. Everything was in muted colors and light tan wood. Harry turned to look at his godfather with a questioning face. Sirius smiled. "When I was younger, this is one of the rooms my cousins would always use whenever they came to visit. Remus and I spent a good deal of time cleaning and fixing it up so it was livable. For you, your own bedroom whenever you're here. We left it plain so you could decorate it yourself. I know you might not spend a lot of time here but I was hoping you'd come and live with me once you're seventeen and free to live wherever you want, since I can't seem to get Dumbledore to let you come and live here before then." Sirius trailed off uncertainly, fidgeting again when Harry just stared at him with a blank face. Then all of sudden he had an armload of Harry when his godson threw himself into his arms.

"Thank you, Siri!" Harry exclaimed with a slightly hoarse voice, trying not to cry. "And of course I will come live with you!" Sirius laughed happily, hugging Harry and picking him up and spinning around, making Harry laugh too. When Sirius put him down, Harry kept his hold on him while he reached with one arm to grab Remus and pull him into the hug as well, Remus happily embracing the both of them. They stood like that for a few moments, just holding each other before Sirius pulled away and smiled at Harry.

"Now, we can either wait until tomorrow to move your stuff up here, or we can do it now. We can bring Ron and his stuff up as well, if you want. You two are only sleeping on cots downstairs anyway. We can easily move one," Sirius suggested excitedly.

Harry smiled again, his eyes still shiny from unshed tears. "I think we can wait until morning, Ron's probably asleep by now anyway."

* * *

**-Number 12 Grimmauld Place, London. Sunday 24 December 1995. Christmas Eve.-**

The next day, they all woke to the smell of breakfast. Once everyone was up, dressed and downstairs sitting around the table, Arthur Weasley spoke up. "If any of you have any last minute shopping to do, we will be taking a trip to Diagon Alley today. I know my children need a few things for school anyway," he finished giving a knowing look to all of his red-headed brood. Sirius looked like he was trying not to pout.

"I need to get a few things," Harry put in. "Couldn't get everything in Hogsmeade. Can Snuffles come with?" Arthur sighed and nodded. After Sirius did a little jig in his seat, breakfast passed fairly quietly, since the Weasley boys were all still groggy with sleep.

When they finished, they all bundled up and flooed to the Leaky Cauldron. After a quick stop at Gringott's they went about their shopping, the Weasley children being allowed to wander on their own, while Harry seemed to have an unwanted entourage consisting of Snuffles, Remus, Arthur, Mad-Eye, Kingsley, and Tonks. The other Order members mostly spread out to blend in with the crowd while still keeping an eye on everything. Harry was trying not to show his irritation. SIrius was having a little more trouble concealing his own, as his ears were drooped and the tip of his tail was flicking in annoyance. Harry couldn't help thinking that it would be more practical to have him accompanied by fewer people, as he wouldn't stand out as much then, but there really wasn't anything he could do about it. Unfortunately, his entourage also had people gawking at him, making him wish he had his invisibility cloak. Instead he focused on where he was going and absently petting Snuffles' head, making his drooping ears perk up a bit and his tail wag.

Harry made a few stops in various shops, spending the most time in Flourish and Blotts picking out a few books for Hermione and one or two for Remus and Sirius - who thankfully stayed outside at the entrance during that particular stop. He was feeling exceedingly generous this Christmas, which was saying something because he's always generous. He'd bought Ron his own Firebolt since he was still able to play Quidditch, and a couple gift certificates from Madam Malkin's for Molly and Ginny - hoping they'd enjoy some time together buying themselves new clothes. (He made a mental note to include a message with their gifts to tell them why he gave it to them, so they didn't think he thought there was anything wrong with the clothes they already had!) He was going to give Fred and George their gift in private (a fat sack of galleons), so their mother wouldn't know where they were getting all the money for their Weasley's Wizard Wheezes endeavor - in the spirit of investment, of course. He'd bought a few simple gifts for his other friends, classmates and professors in Hogsmeade on their last trip there, and he stopped at the owl post office to send them off because he couldn't send them all with Hedwig. When they were done in Diagon Alley, they ate lunch at the Leaky Cauldron.

After some begging, Harry was allowed to venture into Muggle London with Remus, Snuffles (with another leash that he was not happy about), Mad-Eye (with his crooked bowler hat), and Tonks, to get what he needed for Arthur (though he didn't tell them that was what he needed). While the others went back to Grimmauld Place. Harry and his entourage walked out of the Leaky Cauldron and down the street leading to the Muggle shopping district. He was made to hold Remus' hand as they walked in Muggle London, so no one could just apparate in and kidnap him before anyone could react, but he really didn't have a problem holding Remus' hand. He held onto Snuffles' leash with his other hand.

While they were walking, Harry felt a shiver go through him, making him feel like he was being watched. He faltered a step and turned to look behind him but he didn't see anyone out of the ordinary; then again, anyone who might be following him would be disguised. He turned back to look at Mad-Eye who was ahead of him.

"Hey, Mad-Eye, are there other Order members walking around out here keeping an eye on us?" he asked the old Auror.

"So, you noticed that we're being followed too," Mad-Eye said nonchalantly. "No other Order members, we're in the Muggle world, didn't think Death Eaters would follow us out here, especially in so small of a group. There are three of them, can't tell who they are. Let's make this trip quick, Potter, and get you back to safety before something ugly happens." Harry nodded and did make his shopping go as quickly as possible. Luckily in the part of London they were in, he was able to find shops that had what he needed all on the same shopping strip.

He bought Arthur a few books on electronics and mechanics, as well as some Muggle electrician's tools and even stopped in a pawn shop and grabbed some old small electronics; a hand held radio, a set of walkie talkies, a mini travel television - things he knew Arthur could use without having to subscribe to some kind of service provider. In the process, he also got prepaid Muggle credit cards for Molly and Ginny, so they could do some shopping out in the Muggle world too. By the time he was done he'd spent several thousand galleons on the Weasleys alone. Yeah, he was spoiling them rotten this Christmas, but for everything they'd done for him, they deserved everything he could give them and more. And it wasn't like he didn't have the money to spend on them, he hadn't even made a dent in his bank account and that was just his trust vault. He didn't know how much was in the Potter family vaults but the goblins had told him his trust vault was pocket change compared to his family vaults. Considering how much he'd spent, he was mentally preparing himself for the inevitable backlash of the Weasleys trying to give their presents back. 'Well, too bad, either they take them or I throw them away!' he told himself mentally. Well, he only intended to tell them that, he wouldn't really throw them away but he was NOT taking anything back.

As he was shopping, he'd still felt that he was being watched the whole time, sending chills up his spine. Remus and Mad-Eye never left his side, while Snuffles and Tonks kept their eyes on the entrances of the stores Harry went into. That same feeling of being watched followed them all the way to Grimmauld Place. Harry thanked whatever gods were out there for the Fidelius Charm over Number 12.

When they got back and up into Harry's new bedroom, Remus pulled all of Harry's shrunken packages out of his pocket and resized them. Harry and Sirius went about wrapping Ron's present and stowed it under the bed before they moved all of Harry's and Ron's things up into the new room. Instead of the cot from downstairs, Sirius had Remus buy a single bed in Diagon Alley that they set up in Harry's room and pushed up against the wall. Ron was going to stay downstairs in the room he and Harry had shared but his mother decided it would be better if he moved up there too, to make room for other people to stay if they needed to. Harry didn't mind sharing his new room, it was plenty big enough and he was used to sharing a living space with Ron anyway.

Ron and Harry helped each other wrap their gifts, and after they'd wrapped the majority, Ron was looking at Harry suspiciously. He'd noticed how much money Harry had spent on the rest of his family and he knew Harry well enough to know that Harry would have bought him something expensive too.

"What is it?" Ron blurted out after he'd watched Harry put Molly and Ginny's gifts into envelopes with short notes attached to them.

Harry looked up and smiled innocently. "What is what?"

"What did you get me?"

Harry smirked. "You'll just have to wait and see!"

Ron frowned and sighed. "Now, I'm not going to get any sleep tonight, from wondering what it is," he grumped. Harry laughed.

After they'd all decorated the Christmas tree and had dinner, they all went to bed. Ron was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

* * *

**-Slytherin Castle, somewhere in Ireland. Monday 25 December 1995. 00:45 a.m.-**

It was getting late in the evening, so late that it was morning, and Lord Voldemort was in his personal lounge, sitting in a wingback armchair in front of the fire, nursing a glass of Firewhiskey. The fact that it was Christmas never even occurred to him. He was waiting for a certain few Death Eaters to check in. After receiving word earlier in the day stating that Potter was seen in Diagon Alley, he'd sent these three Death Eaters out to follow him.

'Potter's probably at home in bed by now, what is taking them so long to get back to me?' he thought, imagining all the things he was going to do to said Death Eaters once they got there. "Luffy!" he called.

A second later a house elf popped up right in front of him. "What can Luffy be doing for Master?" Luffy the elf asked.

"How is Wormtail doing with those potions? He better not have messed them up!" the Dark Lord warned.

"The potions are doing good, Master. Luffy is watching Mister Wormtail closely and making sure he follows the instructions, Master!"

The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes. "I will check your work later. If I am satisfied with this setup, I will have you and Wormtail tend to those potions until they are completed."

"Yes, Master! Can Luffy be getting anything for you?" the elf asked enthusiastically.

"No, you go and focus on those potions with Wormtail. In fact, I don't want you doing anything else, unless I say otherwise. Go now," he commanded and the elf popped away after bowing very low.

It wasn't long after Luffy had left that another house elf popped in and announced the arrival of three of his Death Eaters; the ones he'd been waiting on. When the three Lestranges - fresh out of Azkaban - walked through the door, the Dark Lord already had his wand out and aimed at them. He sent the Cruciatus Curse at them, holding all three of them under it at the same time. He listened to them scream for a little over a minute before he released them.

"I do not like waiting on other people! It's past midnight, what has delayed you?!" he demanded, his eyes blood red in his anger.

Bellatrix was the first to get back on her feet and regain her voice. "We're sorry, My Lord. We followed Potter and the Weasleys back to their dwelling, but the Order hindered us from leaving as quickly as we would have liked. Killed two of them before we were able to get away. They somehow managed to corner us. The place is under the Fidelius Charm, so we couldn't see it but I know the address! It's one of the old houses in London that belongs to the Black family. I visited there many times as a child. It lies in a complex called Grimmauld Place, where the buildings appear as though they are misnumbered. There's one missing between Number 11 and Number 13," she finished with a wicked smile, showing her blackened teeth. "So, we know where he and the Order are, we just can't get at him while he's inside," she added with a slight pout.

The Dark Lord watched as Rodolphus and Rabastan finally composed themselves. "Is that all?" he asked.

"Yes, My Lord," Rodolphus answered. "It was just a simple shopping trip to Diagon Alley and Muggle London. Potter was heavily guarded the whole time, so we had a hard time keeping the Order from spotting us. We followed them more closely once they went into the Muggle World, when most of their number split away from Potter. Moody saw us with that eye of his, and the werewolf Lupin smelled us, but aside from them, Potter was the only one to notice we were there. He didn't see us, but he could sense us. Potter is a very powerful young man to be able to feel us even with all the ambient magic around London and the magic that was radiating from the wards around Diagon Alley."

This made the Dark Lord smile (well, more like a smirk. Lord Voldemort does not smile!), scaring his followers. That observation from Rodolphus only cemented Voldemort's choice to use Harry Potter as a breeding partner and, hopefully, a future Consort... with a little coaxing of course, maybe a love potion or two and a few well placed spells. He would definitely put up a fight at first but the Dark Lord could handle that, might even enjoy 'handling' that. "Yes, his magic is quite extraordinary, isn't it?" he admitted, changing the subject in his mind before it could get anywhere closer to something that would put him in a 'hard' situation in front of his Death Eaters.

It had been bothering him a little that since his resurrection he'd been more easily distracted by things like the needs of the flesh. He was focused on finding his way to immortality but couldn't help but want to make plans to continue his line should he fail. And, now that it was possible to use him as the other parent, Potter seemed like the perfect choice for that, with his powerful and wealthy bloodlines and a few world famous ancestors. Ancestors famous for their powerful magic and fierceness in battle; the Potter family just seemed to be bred for battle and strength. So, it only stood to reason that future generations would be blessed with that power as well, they'd just need the right nurturing. It only made sense for him to want to produce an heir, since he was no closer to achieving actual immortality; short of getting a vampire to bite him (something he'd not ruled out yet, disturbingly enough). He had the secret to eternal youth, but he wanted to be truly immortal; invincible; undying. He could look twenty years old for the next millennia, but what good was that if he could die as easily as someone stabbing him in the back with a knife?

The Lestranges weren't sure if they were supposed to answer their Lord. "My Lord, should we stake out the location? Wait for him to come out again and kidnap him? Kill him?" Bellatrix suggested.

Voldemort looked at them sharply, a deadly glint in his eyes. "What have I said about Potter?" He pulled out his wand again and started twirling it in his fingers threateningly.

"That he's yours, My Lord," she answered in a small voice.

"And you'd do well to remember that!" The Dark Lord snarled. "No one touches him, unless it is to bring him to me, unharmed!" After composing himself once more, he returned his wand to its holster and continued. "Besides, my plans concerning Potter have changed ...somewhat." Bellatrix looked like she wanted to ask what changed, but she didn't want to upset her Lord again. "You may go," he dismissed them, waving his hand and opening the door behind them, wandlessly. They bowed and left.

The Dark Lord sat for a few more minutes, ruminating and finishing his drink. He wondered if he should get the goblins at Gringott's to perform the spell that reveals hidden bloodlines; on himself and Potter. After all, he only knew he was Slytherin's heir through word of mouth and his Parselmouth abilities, he had no idea who else he might be related to, besides the Peverells. And Potter's mother was a Mudblood. No one knew why or how they came about. Some said they might be descended from Squibs and, if so, perhaps there were other bloodlines there that might have been forgotten. He'd have to test that theory. Maybe he should order his people to bring him some Mudbloods to do a few experiments on? Also, he thought he should have Lucius Malfoy bring him all of his books on Wizarding genealogy and, perhaps get someone to bring him what the Department of Mysteries had on it as well.

The Dark Lord allowed himself to snort. The Department of Mysteries. Dumbledore was still under the impression that he was after the prophecy about himself and Potter.

'Let the old man think that. I've already gotten the prophecy and heard it; it pays to have a few Ministry people in my service simply with the offer of a few extra galleons in their pockets. The Ministry really should pay their employees better, then they wouldn't be so easy to bribe for information,' he thought to himself.

As far as he was concerned, that prophecy was fulfilled the night he tried to kill Harry Potter in his crib. Another factor in his decision not to kill Potter right away. And, if he was honest with himself, he'd been mesmerized by those Avada Kedavra green eyes, when they'd watched him rise from the cauldron, filled with terror and pain and dread.

With that thought, he was reminded of what he planned on doing to Potter once he got hold of him. Smirking, he downed the last of his drink and went to bed, intent on allowing himself a few fantasies before he went to sleep.

* * *

**-Number 12 Grimmauld Place, London. Monday 25 December 1995. Christmas Day.-**

Harry awoke with a start early Christmas morning. He sighed and lifted his blankets to look at the mess in his pants and on his bedding. But that didn't bother him so much as the dreams that caused it! How?! How could he have a wet dream about Voldemort fucking him into the mattress?! How could he dream about sucking the Dark Lord off?! Why would he dream that? WHY?! There must be something seriously wrong with him, if he kept having these... not-so-nightmarish dreams about a man who wanted to kill him. A man around seventy years old who looked like a snake!

'Wait... but he looked like he did in his diary, not snake face,' he realized.

Harry pondered that for a minute before shaking himself and wondering what to do about the mess in his bed. He wasn't at school, so he couldn't just vanish it or leave it for the house elves to clean up; and at the Dursley's, he's the one who did all the washing anyway. But here, he'd either have to get Kreacher to clean his sheets or clean them himself. The other option was telling one of the adults about it. He cringed. If he washed them himself, they'd ask why he was doing laundry anyway. Could he trust Sirius to help him and not to make fun of him for it? No. Then he'd ask who he dreamt about, too. Remus? Arthur? He didn't want to ask Molly, even though she'd probably seen her share of crusty sheets with all the sons she'd had but... Ew! No, he couldn't tell her! Could the Ministry detect underage wandless magic? He could try that... but then if they could detect it, they'd cart him off to court again. Imagine having to explain to the Wizengamot that he'd used underage magic because he was too embarrassed to ask an adult for help cleaning up his messy sheets! He could see it now! Front page news! "Boy-Who-Lived? Boy-Who-Orgasmed!: Harry Potter in court today for using underage magic to clean up the remnants of an erotic dream!" Harry put his face in his palms and shook his head, dragging his hands down his face as he sighed. He grabbed his glasses, put them on and glanced at the clock, which read 04:44 a.m. Then he looked at Ron who was out cold and snoring very loudly. He sighed again and resolved to just go find Remus; the early riser and the one who was most likely to help him quietly, without making fun of him or trying to give him 'the talk'.

After cleaning himself up and getting dressed in comfortable baggy clothes, he went down and found Remus in the kitchen. "Hey, Remmy!" he said as he came into the room.

Remus looked up at him and smiled. "Morning, Harry. You're up early."

Harry blushed furiously. "Yeah, about that... can I ask for your help with something?" he mumbled.

Remus frowned. "Of course. What do you need help with?" Harry's blush deepened. "You alright, Harry?"

"Yeah, it's just... this dream," he trailed off and swallowed. "I had this dream... and it was... and I'm not at school so I can't...," he kept trying to say it, his hands waving around, trying to articulate what he needed help with but it just wasn't happening in a coherent way.

Remus just smiled at him a little sadly, taking pity on him and guessing what he was going on about by his deep blush and the 'dream' mentioned. Also, with his werewolf senses, he could smell the pheromones coming off of him. "You had a wet dream and you can't clean it up yourself and you don't want anyone else to know about it." Harry nodded quickly, not able to look Remus in the eye, his face bright red. Remus shook his head in exasperation, remembering James acting the same way in the mornings sometimes at school. Even though he could clean it up himself at the time, he still blushed all the way up to his ears all morning. "Okay, Cub, I'll go freshen up your bed. Why don't you get yourself some tea?"

Harry nodded. "Thank you. Is anyone else up?"

"No, just you and I," Remus answered as he stood up.

"Okay," Harry said absently, still blushing red as a beet. "I'm gonna start making breakfast, everyone will be waking up soon anyway."

"Okay," Remus said from the doorway. "I'll be right back."

Harry nodded and turned to start making breakfast for everyone. Remus returned five minutes later and helped him cook, making massive amounts of everything, just like Molly did every morning. Twenty minutes after Harry and Remus started cooking, Molly came rushing into the room spewing apologies for not waking up in time to make them breakfast, then tried to finish the cooking. But Harry shushed her and sat her down at the table with a cup of tea. "It's Christmas, you take a break this morning. Think of it as another Christmas present from Remus and I." She reluctantly complied with a small smile and a thank you. Remus even took a moment to conjure a couple cushions to put behind Molly and Harry coaxed her to put her feet up, putting another cushion under her feet. She looked to be close to tears just from this little gesture from the both of them.

It didn't take long for sleepy faces to start appearing in the doorway and trudging over to the table to sit down. Almost everyone was in the room and had started eating before anyone was awake enough to notice who was doing the cooking. Harry smiled innocently at all the faces of his friends and surrogate family members, as he put another plate of bacon in front of the Twins. Remus chuckled at all their faces as they all watched the two of them and looked at Molly oddly, who was trying not to chuckle at the look on her husband's and children's faces.

"Have we grown extra heads?" Harry asked them all, pouring Sirius another cup of coffee. Harry turned to Remus. "No, you look normal. Have I grown an extra head?"

"No, you look the same as always," Remus laughed. "I don't know what they're staring at. You'd think they'd never seen men cooking at a stove before." Harry and Remus laughed together and finished up, sitting down to eat their own breakfast.

They all finished eating and Molly insisted on cleaning up. Then they all went up to the sitting room where the Christmas tree and all the presents were. They were barely all in the room before the brightly colored wrapping paper started flying in every direction.

Before opening his presents, Harry spoke up. "I would just like to say to a few of you before hand that, no, I will not take any presents back! Either you accept them, or they go in the rubbish bin!" With that said, he sat down and started opening his presents. The first thing was a new Weasley sweater and package of homemade fudge. The sweater he put on immediately, with a big smile on his face, then stuffed a big chunk of fudge in his mouth. Harry wasn't sure Molly would ever understand how much he loved and appreciated the homemade gifts she always gave him. After a minute he could FEEL the eyes staring at him from all sides. He smirked and continued to open his presents; a book on grey defensive magic from Remus, a box of pranks from the Twins, another book on quidditch from Ron, a book about runes from Hermione with a note that told him he HAD to learn about them because they were too useful and fascinating for him not to, a leather necklace with a snitch pendant from Ginny which he also put on immediately, a new photo album from Sirius filled with pictures of the Marauders, and there were a few other things from his classmates. Finally he looked up and noticed he was still being stared at by all the redheads, save for the Twins who were watching him suspiciously while holding the card he'd given them that told them he'd give them their present in private. "What?" he asked. Then he noticed Ron was looking a little grey, he almost looked like he was going to faint as he stared at his new Firebolt. A second later, Ron did just that; he fainted and crumpled sideways on the sofa he was occupying beside Tonks, and Harry couldn't hold back the laugh. They left him there to wake up on his own but Tonks started to fan Ron with some folded up wrapping paper, hoping to sooth him enough to wake up.

"Harry, dear, are you sure about these gifts?" Molly asked. "Weren't they expensive?"

"It's nothing you guys don't deserve," he told her simply, making Molly go misty-eyed for the second time that day. Then Ginny flew into his arms and hugged him, squeezing him so tight that he felt a few joints pop - he was surprised she was that strong.

"THANK YOU!" she yelled, then let go and skipped over to her mother to compare their gifts, leaving Harry to sway a little at the sudden loss.

"No problem," he answered.

Molly smiled a little uncertainly and looked at her daughter's present to see it was the same as her own. Arthur nodded and then couldn't stop himself from immediately starting to flip through the books and tinkering with the electronic devices. The Twins, however, stood up and walked over to Harry and grabbed him by the arms, then started dragging him from the room.

"Couldn't you two wait just a few more minutes?" Harry asked them.

"No," was the unison response he got. Remus watched Harry get dragged from the room bemusedly.

After a moment, Harry turned and told Remus and Sirius that he'd be right back, then started leading the Twins from the room. He quickly went up the stairs and to his bedroom, where he retrieved the bag of gold galleons from his trunk. He turned and kept it hidden behind his back for a moment. "Just think of it as an investment," he told them with a smirk and handed it to them. The bag had featherlight, expansion and silencing spells on it, so the Twins didn't know what it was until they opened it. When they did, their jaws dropped and they just stared at the shiny gold in the bag. Harry bit his lip to stifle another laugh, but ended up snorting anyway.

"Is it real?" Fred asked.

"Yes, Fred, it's real," Harry answered.

"How much is there?" George asked.

"George, there are 10,000 galleons in that bag," Harry stated simply. "All of it is yours." The Twins looked up at him in disbelief, then Harry let out a yelp as they both tackled him backward onto the bed. The Twins then proceeded to pepper his face with kisses as they squeezed him between the two of them. "Oy! Knock it off!" The Twins backed off and let Harry sit up, but then George grabbed Harry's face in his hands and planted a big, long, wet kiss to his lips. When he pulled away, Harry's eyes were the size saucers and his jaw dropped. "George, why did you-?" he started, but then Fred grabbed his face and did the same thing, only he one-upped his brother and flicked his tongue into Harry's agape mouth for a few seconds. When Fred pulled away, Harry was as red as a cherry. "Why do you two keep kissing me?!"

"Oh, come on, Harry!" George said.

"You really think-" Fred started.

"-we didn't notice-"

"-that you're just a tiny bit-"

"-bent!" they finished together.

Harry's blush deepened and his brow furrowed. "How can you know that, when I'm not even sure about it myself?" he asked petulantly.

"So, you're going to tell us that kiss with Cho Chang went well?" George asked.

"How do you-?" Harry started.

"Saw the whole thing!" Fred told him.

Harry put his face in his palms as it burned even more. At this rate, Harry was sure his face would be red for the rest of his life.

"So, what do you say, Harry?" George asked.

"As a thank you for this more than generous loan," Fred continued, tossing the bag up and down.

"Want to do a bit of experimenting to confirm your bentness?" George finished.

Harry glowered at them. "First of all, it's not a loan. It's a gift. And second, we can't do that here, in the same house as your parents! And my godparents!" he hissed the last part.

Fred and George each put a hand on Harry's shoulders. "But you see, Harry, we can." Fred said.

"See, Fred and I have our own room here," George continued.

"And we're seventeen," Fred added.

"Which means we can use magic,"

"And any silencing or locking charms you so desire,"

"And any other 'bedroom' spells you might want to try!" George proclaimed. Now Harry was just bright red all over.

"I think we broke him," Fred told his brother.

George nodded. "You know, Harry, we could always wait until we're back at school,"

"And find one of those handy hidden rooms to use,"

"So that Fred and I may have our wicked way with you!" George finished. Harry stared at them, his jaw slack.

"Well, you think about!" Fred relented, as he and his brother stood up and walked over to the door.

"You know where to find us whenever you're ready!" They said in unison and left Harry there to boil in embarrassment.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3: Twins

**EXPLICIT CONTENT! Harry/Fred/George lemon. You've been warned!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

'Thoughts.'

"~Parseltongue.~"

_Spells and potions._

**+Chapter 3: Twins+ **

**-Hogwarts Express, speeding towards Hogsmeade. Friday 5 January 1996.-**

Harry sat in his compartment with Ron, Hermione, Fred and George, and were joined shortly thereafter by Lee Jordan and Neville Longbottom. Harry and the Weasley boys were telling Hermione all about their holiday, while she in turn told them about hers.

The rest of the Christmas holidays at Grimmauld Place had gone by fairly uneventfully. Beside the few drunken adults to deal with on New Year's, there was just the continued dreams about Voldemort and the happenstance of Molly and Ginny dragging Harry out shopping with them. He tried to tell them that he'd intended that they have a day to themselves and enjoy eachother's company, but they stood firm with the promise that if he didn't come with and buy himself some new clothes as well, then they were just going to spend their Christmas presents picking out clothes for him. So, he went with them and was able to get away with only bringing Snuffles and Remus as bodyguards. He knew there were a few other Order members lurking around keeping an eye on him as well, though. He really didn't mind giving his opinions to Ginny and Molly when they modeled clothes in front of the mirror, though they stopped asking after he kept telling them that everything looked lovely on them. Molly and Ginny each ended up with whole new wardrobes. Harry walked away with several new Wizarding robes, both for school and casual, that were spelled to grow in size as he did; a couple pairs of new shoes; and several new Muggle shirts and blue jeans, some that fit him perfectly and some that were a size bigger for when he went through his next growth spurt. Ginny even talked Harry into getting a new pair of glasses, doing away with those round wire rims and getting a new, more trendy pair. They were rectangular with a clear, smoky black plastic frame. Then, they even had the gall to drag him to a salon, where his hair was washed and trimmed (and stared at by the hair stylists because none of them could get his hair to behave, no matter what any of them did).

After a couple days, Harry had decided that buying the new Muggle clothes and new glasses was a bad idea, because the Twins didn't seem to be able to keep their eyes off of him once they saw him in clothes that fit right and showed him off. To Harry, it was a little unnerving, and flattering at the same time. The stares we was getting from the other students and the people on the platform were worse than they had been before; they didn't STOP staring now! He should have just stuck to Dudley's old cast offs.

After everyone had finished catching up with each other on the train, they went on to small talk and Hermione pulled out a huge book. Harry turned to stare out the window, watching the country go by. Most of everything he saw was covered with snow, the rest in the process of getting another coat of the fluttering white powder. Half way through the trip, the compartment door opened and they all turned to see who it was. Then the compartment was filled with the sound of groans of dismay.

"Heard you got new glasses, Potter!" Draco Malfoy said, almost jubilantly. "Finally done away with those disgusting round wire things? They did nothing to enhance that troll face of yours."

Harry sighed and met his gaze, snarky comment already on his tongue. "Is it part of your itinerary for every trip on the Express to come and bother me? Or is it just a coincidence that every time you seem to become overwhelmed with the sudden need to see my charming self?" he asked with a wink. Snickers went around the other occupants and Malfoy went red in the face. He didn't even respond, just stepped out, slammed the door, and left. Harry grinned with satisfaction as the others burst out laughing.

"That was perfect, Harry!" Ron wheezed between laughs.

"It was, wasn't it?" Harry asked rhetorically, then turned back to watching the snowy Scottish highlands go by.

Hermione smirked. "And I don't know what he was talking about, but you've always been fanciable, Harry," she said off-handedly, not even taking her eyes off her book.

Harry looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Thanks, 'Mione!"

"You're welcome!" she replied and flipped the page.

"I wonder if his silent retreat has anything to do with the delicious visage that Harry presented to him upon his entrance?" Fred asked, sounding wistful. Harry's face started burning furiously.

"I'm not sure, Fred!" George answered.

"Now, that you mention it," Lee said, suddenly turning an observing eye on Harry. "He is looking rather dashing." Harry's red face darkened.

"Did you see the light blush on Malfoy's face before he left?" Fred asked.

"I think Harry might have gotten himself another obsessed fan," George said.

Harry couldn't help but grimace. "I really hope that isn't the case. Can you imagine if Malfoy suddenly started coming on to me?" Everyone else cringed and shivered.

* * *

**-Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, somewhere in Northern Scotland. First weeks of the second school semester. 1996.-**

The weeks after the end of the winter holidays went by quickly and fairly well, even with all the detentions with Umbridge and all the staring coming from his classmates. Really, if Harry had known cleaning up his appearance would have this effect, he wouldn't have done it. Nothing awful happened, except for a failed date with Cho and a few more articles from Rita Skeeter. Harry didn't even want to think about the Occlumency lessons and all the effort he had to put in just to keep Snape from seeing his most recent dreams. And the dreams! They kept coming, becoming more vivid as time went on, always erotic and disturbing all at once.

On the upside, he'd gotten a little closer to Luna. He'd learned that she was an amazing singer and songwriter, and that she wanted to write and perform music in the future while moonlighting articles for the Quibbler. He'd found all this out when he had gone wandering after classes one Friday and decided to go to the Room of Requirement to maybe blow off some steam by making some dummies look like Umbridge and then blowing up their heads. But when he'd gotten to the seventh floor, the door was already there. He'd gone inside and found Luna sitting at a piano, playing and singing her heart out.

_'The looking glass, so shiny and new,_  
_How quickly the glamour fades,_  
_I start spinning, slipping out of time,_  
_Was that the wrong draught to take? _  
_You made a deal, and now it seems you have to offer up,_  
_But will it ever be enough? _  
_It's not enough. _  
_Here I am, a rabbit hearted girl,_  
_Frozen in the headlamps,_  
_It seems I've made the final sacrifice._

_We raise it up, this offering, we raise it up,_  
_This is a gift, it comes with a price,_  
_Who is the lamb and who is the knife?_  
_Midas is king and he holds me so tight,_  
_And turns me to gold in the sunlight._

_I look around, but I can't find you,_  
_If only I could see your face,_  
_Instead of rushing towards the skyline,_  
_I wish that I could just be brave,_  
_I must become a lion hearted girl,_  
_Ready for a fight,_  
_Before I make the final sacrifice!_

_We raise it up, this offering, we raise it up,_  
_This is a gift, it comes with a price,_  
_Who is the lamb and who is the knife?_  
_Midas is king and he holds me so tight,_  
_And turns me to gold in the sunlight._  
_Raise it up, raise it up,_  
_Raise it up, raise it up,_  
_And in the spring I shed my skin,_  
_And it blows away with the changing wind,_  
_The waters turn from blue to red,_  
_As towards the sky I offer it._

_This is a gift, it comes with a price,_  
_Who is the lamb and who is the knife?_  
_Midas is king and he holds me so tight,_  
_And turns me to gold in the sunlight._

_This is a gift, it comes with a price,_  
_Who is the lamb and who is the knife?_  
_Midas is king and he holds me so tight,_  
_And turns me to gold in the sunlight._

_This is a gift, it comes with a price,_  
_Who is the lamb and who is the knife?_  
_Midas is king and he holds me so tight,_  
_And turns me to gold in the sunlight._  
_This is a gift!'_

As she finished singing, Harry had started to clap. The song was so amazing and Luna's voice was so beautiful - he had to clap! Though, he couldn't help but think that the lyrics were a little foreboding, especially coming from someone he had a hunch had Seer blood in her veins. The song reminded him of the war going on a bit too well. 'Maybe that's what she had in mind when she wrote it?' he'd thought, after he'd seen the hand drawn sheet music.

He'd startled her with his clapping, but when she saw who it was, she'd smiled a very fond smile at Harry and he smiled right back. "Did you write that all on your own?" he'd asked, coming over to look at the music closer.

"Yes," she'd said. "I've written this song just today."

Harry had looked at her incredulously. "You wrote a song like that in one day?!"

She'd nodded. "Yes, when the billywigs give me the inspiration, I've been known to write more than one song in a day."

"You've written other things?" he had asked, sitting on the piano bench beside her.

"Of course! I love writing and singing music. More than I like writing articles for Daddy's magazine."

After that, they'd chatted a little more about Luna's future, and Harry'd deflected questions about his own because he really didn't know what would happen with his future and he wasn't sure it would be worth making any plans when he'd almost certainly die sometime soon. Eventually, instead of blowing up Umbridge dummies to make himself feel better, Luna had started teaching him to play the piano. He'd gone along with it and found it fun and freeing. Though, not nearly as freeing as flying through the air chasing a snitch. And he thought he was pretty good at playing the piano, if anyone asked. Which Luna did, and she agreed that he was pretty good for a beginner.

He'd managed to coax her into performing one of her songs in front of the DA after they were done training one night. It wasn't the same song as before; she sang one that she called the Drumming Song. The applause and whistles from her friends and classmates actually had her blushing. The other girls seemed to really love the song, as they were the only ones that initially realized it was a love song. The boys felt stupid when the girls had to explain it to them in chastising voices. Harry was trying not to laugh the whole time his 'students' were debating if it was a love song or just a song about a crazy person who heard drums in their head. He wasn't sure how to feel about being the only boy who did notice it was a love song without it being explained to him.

"This is why boys are hopeless," Ginny had said, the other girls readily agreeing with her.

* * *

The other upside (though Harry was still debating if it really was an upside), was that Fred and George had started openly showing their interest in Harry. They had surprised him one evening when they'd sort of kidnapped him from the corridor, while he was walking beside Ron and Hermione, dragged him into one of the hidden passageways behind one of the suits of armor, and then snogged the life out of him.

"Oy, George, shove off! It's my turn!" Fred had hissed and shoved his brother out of the way, breaking the kiss between George and Harry. Then Fred had kissed him, not even giving Harry a chance to argue that he wasn't sure they should be kissing him at all. George had just shrugged, gone up behind Harry and starting licking his neck and nibbling on his ears. Their hands had been all over the place, undoing buttons on his robes, slipping under his shirt, fondling his arse and other such places. Then the red-haired devils had left him there in the passageway with a hard-on, bruised lips and looking thoroughly debauched - cackling as they went. He thought maybe it had been revenge for him leaving them wondering if he was going to ask them to let him experiment.

When he had peeked out into the corridor again - hoping to be able to make a beeline to the nearest restroom without anyone noticing, and Harry had seen Ron and Hermione waiting for him, and he'd blushed as red as a tomato and ducked behind the suit of armor again to deal with his problem. Which was hard to do after he'd seen Hermione notice him peeking out and raised a knowing eyebrow at him, which meant she'd known what he was doing back there.

The Twins had cornered him a couple times after their DA lessons too, doing the same thing to him. It was like they were trying to wind him up into finally giving in. It was working. He was on a hair trigger at the slightest brush from the two twin demons, so much so that it was carrying over to whenever other boys touched him too.

Which brought him to his current situation.

They'd just finished another session with the DA and Harry asked the Twins to stay behind. The others left; Hermione, the last out, gave Harry a knowing smirk before she shut the door behind her. Of course, she would notice how jumpy he was whenever the Twins were around lately.

Once the door was closed, Harry started fidgeting as the Twins turned to look at him with a glint in their eyes.

"So, what did you want with us, dearest Harry?" George asked, smirking. He and Fred came up on either side of Harry and slung their arms around his shoulders, waiting expectantly for him to speak.

"Well, uh," he started. "I-I'm sure you know what I want already."

"Nope," Fred said.

"Doesn't work that way, Harry!" George continued.

"You have to say it!" they said together.

The Saviour of the Wizarding World blushed all the way up to his ears, but stayed silent. Until those hands on his shoulders started sliding down until eventually each cupping one of his arse cheeks, groping lazily. "Oh, sod it," he muttered to himself before speaking up. "Fuck me!" After those words came out of his mouth, he couldn't believe he'd said it and so, lowered his burning face into his hands, as he'd become accustomed to doing when embarrassed.

The two Weasleys grinned broadly and each took one of Harry's hands, pulling them away from his face, just as Harry winced when a sharp pain went through his head. But Harry forgot about it when it disappeared right away and he was faced with grinning Weasley Twins.

"We'd be delighted," Fred said, pulling Harry's glasses off with his other hand. George flicked his wand and Harry heard the tell tale 'click' of the door locking.

George then put one hand on Harry's cheek and turned his head to face him, leaning in and kissing Harry softly on the lips. Then they both shoved him backwards to land on one of the pouffes that were scattered around for their defense training. Fred and George plopped down beside him, both of them starting to remove his clothes. When Harry tried to reach up and undress one of the Twins, the other stopped him.

"No, you just lay there and let us do the work for now," George told him, as Fred rid him of his trainers and then quickly divested him of his trousers.

Soon, Harry was naked with his cock twitching, his whole body blushing. He watched the Twins stare at him hungrily for a few seconds, before they started tearing their own clothes off hurriedly. He even heard the sound of cloth ripping a few times. Then the Twins pounced on him, Fred and George both kissing, licking and biting every bit of Harry they could find, groping him here and there. Harry's heart started racing and he felt a dull almost unnoticeable pounding behind his eyes.

"Gods, you're sexy," Fred said in a husky tone. Harry's blush deepened and, when one of the Twins went for the prize and grabbed hold of his new fully erect member, a loud needy moan escaped him; he slapped a hand over his mouth with a horrified look in his eyes at the sound that he'd made.

"Yes, he is, isn't he?" George replied. When the rough hand on his cock started moving and the other twin moved Harry's hand away from his mouth only to cover it with a set of demanding lips and a probing tongue, Harry lost track of which twin was doing what. He allowed his hands to settle into the short flaming red hair of the twin that was kissing him, holding their mouths together. Harry melted into the kiss, trying to keep his hips still as the hand kept moving up and down. He vaguely noticed the twitching erections pressing against his thighs, when a set of teeth closed around one of his nipples, causing his back to arch and him to yelp into the mouth that was devouring his own.

Then both the mouth kissing him and the hand stroking him left him, Harry letting out a whimper of loss. That whimper turned into a long moan as one mouth latched onto his collarbone, sucking and biting it, marking it. Then another mouth was on his hard length, licking up the leaking essence and sucking him in. His hips stuttered a little, causing a set of hands to settle on his hips to hold him down. Harry moaned wantonly, his eyes squeezing shut in pleasure. He felt that mouth smile around him, the other one chuckling and moving to bite and suck at his nipples. He could feel his pleasure rising, heat coiling in his belly, his moans rising in pitch.

"Oh, fuck... I'm gonna," he wheezed, then his eyes shot open and he shouted in dismay when a hand closed around the base of his shaft, keeping him from release. "No! No, no, please! Please let me come!"

"Now, now, Harry!" Fred said, after pulling his mouth off of Harry's cock with a 'pop'. "Can't have you finishing without us!"

Harry only whimpered when Fred conjured a cock ring to put around Harry's angry red and needy member. Fred grabbed hold of Harry's wrists and yanked him forward, pulling him onto his lap, so he was straddling his thighs. He crashed his lips against Harry's, as George moved to sit behind the raven-haired imp, using a spell to cover his fingers in lube. He ran his wet fingers up and down Harry's crease and over his hole, making Harry moan against Fred's lips.

A finger slipped inside and pushed past the ring of muscle and Harry's breath hitched as he tensed. George left his finger there, gently turning it a little from side to side, waiting for Harry to relax again. Once he did, George pushed his finger in deeper, spreading the lube around, fucking his finger in and out slowly until he was able to move it freely. Then, he added another finger and Harry whimpered a little and tensed again. George brought his other hand up to rub comforting circles onto Harry's back. When his hand made contact with Harry's skin, Harry tensed even more and George paused, running his fingers over the pronounced ridge of what felt like a scar, but he couldn't see any scar on Harry's back. George shook himself, resolving to ask Harry about it afterward, and continued the movements of his fingers inside the younger wizard. Harry relaxed a little, moaning when the fingers starting scissoring his opening and forgetting about George touching his back.

Fred nibbled on Harry's lips, then pulled away and put his fingers into Harry's mouth. "Lick them," he ordered. Harry complied, keeping his eyes locked with Fred's, as he wrapped his tongue around Fred's fingers and laved them until they were wet with saliva. When they were sufficiently wet, he reluctantly pulled his fingers from Harry's wonderful mouth and reached down and around to finger himself, preparing his own hole. After another moment of stretching, Fred pulled his fingers out of himself and George pulled his out of Harry. George wrapped his arms around Harry and pulled him back against his chest, grinding his erection against Harry bottom as he pulled him off of his brother's lap.

Fred smirked and turned around and lay face down on one of the pouffes with his arse in the air. Harry's skin turned a deeper red and his cock twitched at the sight. George helped Harry move forward to kneel behind Fred, guiding Harry's hands to grasp Fred's hips. Harry's scar tingled but he paid it no mind, so transfixed was he on the task before him.

Fred groaned in need, wriggling his arse a little. "Come on, Harry! Do it!" Harry licked his lips and lined himself up, pushing forward slowly, breaching Fred's body. They both moaned, George groaning from the sight.

George helped Harry start a slow steady pace, then sat back and watched for a minute with a devilish smirk on his face. Then he sat forward and grabbed hold of Harry's hips, holding him still while he was deep inside Fred.

"What?" Harry started with a confused tone. George bent Harry forward over his brother, then quickly but gently eased himself into that pink virgin hole. He let out a deep groan at the same time Harry let out a howl of pleasure and pain. Harry's breathing picked up and he tensed around the intrusion.

Fred reached for Harry's arms and brought them around his waist, holding them there and caressing them. "It's okay, Harry, just breathe. Breathe and let George take over," Fred told him with a breathy voice.

George started rubbing Harry's hips and sides gently. When he finally relaxed again, he pulled out slowly and then slammed back in, making both Harry and Fred moan loudly. "Rock your hips, Harry," George ordered huskily.

Harry wasn't sure what he meant, as it was his first time, so he tried an experimental rock forwards. When he got a loud moan out of both of them, he did it again. George started up again, starting a steady but hard rhythm.

"Oh, gods, yes, like that!" Fred moaned. "Angle it down a bit, Harry!" Harry did and hit Fred's prostate dead on, causing him to give a shout. That's when Fred started moving his own hips, fucking himself backwards onto Harry's cock, just as George finally found Harry's sweet spot. Harry screamed and let out a whine, stealing a hand between himself and Fred to get rid of the damn cock ring, but George stopped him.

"Wait for us, Harry!" George breathed. Harry whimpered and kept rocking his hips, as George kept plowing into him and Fred kept fucking himself on Harry's prick. It didn't take long, with how tight Harry was around George and how wanton Fred was moving. The Twins shouted as they came, Harry moaning just as George released the cock ring and they all exploded at the same time.

Fred collapsed forward onto the pouffe and Harry collapsed on top of him. George pulled out of Harry and flopped down beside his brother and the raven-haired wizard.

"I take it you've... done this before," Harry panted out, trying to catch his breath again. The Twins grinned evilly.

"Once or twice," George shrugged.

Harry smirked and heaved himself off of and out of Fred and plopped between the two devils. "Let me guess... Lee Jordan?"

The Twins chuckled and nodded. "Yes, Lee is such a whore," Fred said, smiling. He hesitated, then traded another evil grin with his brother.

"And so is Marcus Flint," they intoned together.

Harry's eyes bugged out. "Ew!" he shouted and buried his face against George's arm. "I did not need that mental image! How can you two stand to touch him, he's... so... ew!"

"He might not be a looker," George informed. "But he does have enough 'packed away' to make up for it!"

Harry snorted and blushed again, looking up at George with wry smirk. "You would let Flint bugger you just because he's got a huge cock, wouldn't you?"

"And a tight arse!" Fred chimed in. They all laughed at that, Harry shaking his head.

Harry sat up and looked at each twin, then reached for his pants. "That was fun."

"Indeed it was!" Fred said, taking Harry's pants from him and chucking them away. "But it's not over yet!" Harry raised an eyebrow. "It's my turn, now! Your arse is mine!" Harry flushed a deeper red.

"Okay," Harry said, smiling shyly.

"And!" George said, sitting up and putting his fingers to Harry's lips. "We have one more orifice to cherry pop!" Harry turned red all over and his eyes widened.

"Yes! We officially lay claim to all of your firsts!" Fred added, smirking. "Sexually, anyway."

"What makes you think I haven't done anything like this before?" Harry asked.

"Harry," George started.

"You blush too much for you to be anything but a virgin!" Fred finished. Harry nodded silently, as the red tinge in his cheeks burned furiously.

"Well, then!" George stated, laying back onto the pouffe, pulling Harry forward to hover over his hips. "Just do what Fred did to you earlier," he instructed, his voice going a lot deeper as he said it.

Harry bit his lip and nodded again, eyeing the rapidly returning erection. He actually couldn't believe how much he really wanted to put that thing in his mouth, even considering where it had been for the last twenty minutes. He swallowed thickly as his mouth started watering. He licked his lips and leaned down to lick over the red glistening head. He heard George draw a sharp breath and then moan when he wrapped his lips around it and started sucking, slowly taking as much of it in as he could. He moaned around the flesh tower when he felt the head of an exact copy press against his stretched and used hole. He whimpered and gagged around the cock in his mouth when Fred pushed himself deeper into Harry, letting out his own deep guttural groan. Harry experimented with swallowing George's length, and wrapping his tongue out it. He figured he was doing it right when he felt hands fist into his hair and George's hips jerked upward, making Harry gag again.

"Fuck!" George shouted, when Harry hollowed his cheeks. "Fred, back up a bit!"

Harry felt Fred pull out and tug him backward with him, as George sat up onto his knees in front of Harry.

"Keep doing what you've been doing, Harry, but I'm going to be the one moving this time," George told him, pressing his cock to Harry's lips.

Harry took it back into his mouth and George started moving his hips slowly, fucking Harry's mouth. Fred slammed himself back inside Harry and reached around to wrap a hand around the smaller wizard's cock, making Harry let out a whine. Fred and George mercilessly pounded into Harry, a hard pace that Harry found himself liking a lot. The sound of flesh hitting flesh filled the room, accompanied by soft pants and loud moans, until it was filled with the screams of completion and just a little choking on Harry's part when George's cum shot down his throat.

"Sorry about that, Harry," George told him panting. "It felt so good, I didn't think to warn you."

Harry shook his head, trying to get his coughing under control. "Don't do... that again...," he choked out, coughing between words.

"Oh! Again!" Fred exclaimed. "He says not to cum down his throat again. Like he's expecting a next time! He wants to do us again, George!" Harry blushed again, his coughing finally letting up.

"Well," Harry started shyly. "If you don't want to, then..."

"Oh, no!" George said. "Don't get us wrong, Harry. We'd very much like another piece of you!"

Harry smiled and blushed deeper. When his eyes started drooping, Harry shook himself and started collecting his clothes. "We'd better get back to Gryffindor Tower before we're missed."

The Twins nodded and the three of them started dressing themselves and quickly made their way out of the Room of Requirement. When they got back to the Tower, Harry was slightly dismayed to find Hermione waiting for him in the common room, especially with the smirk on her face and the pounding headache building behind his eyes. He and the Twins stopped just inside the door, looking very much like deer in headlights.

"So, how was it?" Hermione asked, knowingly. She winked at them and patted the seats beside her. "Tell me everything!" Harry went the shade of a pomegranate and reluctantly dragged his feet over to the couch Hermione was sitting on, the Twins following and also blushing, though not as obviously as Harry.

George completely forgot to ask Harry about his back.

* * *

**-Slytherin Castle, somewhere in Ireland. Same night.-**

Voldemort. Was not happy. Not in the slightest. He'd discovered the mind link between himself and Harry Potter and had been lightly keeping tabs on his life since the beginning of the school year. He saw EVERYTHING those red-headed fiends did to something he now considered to be HIS. Or would be his, soon. Quite possibly sooner than he'd planned, as he thought of moving up his plans by a of couple months, just to get Harry away from any other suitors.

He currently was so enraged that his magic was crackling around him; the fire in the hearth had been suffocated by it, his eyes were crimson and he'd had Wormtail under the Cruciatus Curse for the last five minutes, since the waste of flesh came into the room without knocking. He barely heard his screams as he seethed that, not only had a couple of Weasleys touched HIS future consort but, they'd taken his virginity. And Harry had enjoyed it immensely.

The Dark Lord growled in frustration. Maybe he was getting ahead of himself. He wasn't even sure he could get the damn brat to cooperate enough to bear him children, much less bond with him. He might even be forced to kill him anyway. Potter could be particularly stubborn when it came to something he didn't want to do. He was certain he'd have to force Potter into bed with him, at least the first time. Though, he was looking forward to that. He liked it rough, and from what he'd seen going on with Potter and those Weasleys, he was sure the brat would like it too, though it would be much to his own shame.

Taking another ten minutes to calm himself a bit, the Dark Lord huffed out a sigh and finally released Wormtail from the curse. He stood and headed to his personal chambers, leaving the rat on the floor to twitch and drool. He'd have to contact Lucius in the morning, to tell him about the advance in plans.

TBC

* * *

**Song lyrics are from "Rabbit Heart" by Florence and the Machine. I used it because it seemed appropriate to Harry's and Luna's situations. I also changed a few key words to keep it consistent with the old-fashioned Wizarding World.**

**Aforementioned "Drumming Song" is also by Florence and the Machine.**


	4. Chapter 4: Vision

**Here's the next chapter! Slight Harry/Seamus wanking in the beginning, but this is where the story starts to pick up!**

* * *

"Speech."

'Thoughts.'

"~Parseltongue.~"

_Spells and potions._

**+Chapter 4: Vision+**

**-Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, somewhere in Northern Scotland. Thursday 29 February 1996.-**

It was late evening, Harry and Seamus Finnegan were on their way back to Gryffindor Tower after a shared detention. Dumbledore was long gone, their DA days were over, and Umbridge had free reign over Hogwarts. There were no paintings on the walls and Umbridge's voice was reciting the school rules on a continuous loop throughout the corridors even at night. Seamus and Harry had made up, Seamus confessing to Harry that he believed him when he said the Dark Lord was back.

Seamus' hand was scabbed over already, while Harry's bled freely. The scarring was so thick on Harry's hand that even if it were allowed to heal properly, he'd still have vivid scars on the back of his hand for the rest of his life - even with Madam Pomfrey's help. Seamus kept flicking his gaze toward Harry, as they walked side by side down the corridor. Suddenly, Seamus grabbed Harry by his unhurt hand and dragged him behind a tapestry and into a hidden passageway.

"Seamus, what-" Harry exclaimed, only to have Seamus' hand slap over his mouth. Harry was shoved up against the wall, with Seamus pressing against him.

"Ssh," Seamus hushed him, removing his hand and slamming his lips against Harry's.

Harry gasped, allowing Seamus access to his mouth. When Harry felt that tongue invade, he pressed right back into the kiss, as they both started fondling one another. He threw himself into the tryst, brought on by raging hormones. That's all this was, and they both knew it. Just two teenagers trying to get off. It might also have been a bit of defiance on their part, as Umbridge had made it clear that homosexual relationships were 'unnatural', or at least that was her excuse for removing the new male pregnancy potions from the curriculum. She'd even gone so far as to vanish the potions that the NEWT students had been working so hard on for over a month, giving them all zeros in their Potions grades for that time. That pissed Snape and the other professors off and dashed the hopes of many students of getting the NEWTs they needed for the careers they'd wanted to pursue.

Harry's fingers made quick work of Seamus' belt and the fastenings of his trousers. He stole his hand inside and grabbed hold of Seamus' rock hard member, while Seamus quickly released Harry from the confines of his own uniform trousers. They continued to kiss and stroke eachother, trying their best to stay quiet. They kissed and bit and sucked at each other's lips and tongues, their hands moving on their cocks faster and faster. Harry winced.

'There it is again! That headache!' he thought, mentally groaning in both annoyance and pain. Every time he was intimate with someone - kissing Luna, making out with Colin, fucking Malfoy (and wasn't that an interesting night?) - he'd get a terrible headache. Whenever he was with Fred and George, even just talking to them, he'd get a full blown migraine.

Harry pushed the pain aside and kept on stroking Seamus, his movements slicked by precum and blood from his own hand (much to his own disgust). Seamus bit his lip and moaned as he released into Harry's hand. Harry was almost to the finish line too, just a little bit more...

His head exploded with pain, making him scream and fall to the ground with his hands clutched to his head, scaring Seamus and attracting the attention of a professor who'd been walking by.

Seamus quickly made himself decent and bent to do the same for Harry, then started to fret over what to do for his whimpering and writhing classmate, when Professor Flitwick stepped into the passageway. Seeing Harry on the ground, bleeding from his hand and the scar on his forehead, Filius Flitwick disregarded the boys' disheveled state and conjured a stretcher and levitated Harry onto it.

"Come along, Mister Finnegan! We must get him to the Hospital Wing," he stated. "What happened?" he asked the teenager, as they rushed down the corridor, Harry levitating on the stretcher behind them.

"I don't know what happened! One minute he was fine - more than fine - and the next minute he was screaming!" Seamus said quickly. They both faltered and turned to look at Harry when he suddenly stopped moving and making noise.

"Quickly, now!" Flitwick squeaked and started running, absently sending a _Patronus_ off to Professor McGonagall. 'That bleeding curse scar is very worrying!' the professor thought.

They arrived at the Hospital Wing not two minutes later, rushing through the doors, catching Madam Pomfrey's attention from her filing for the day. She bustled out of her office to see what the noise was, and noticing the bleeding student, instantly started barking orders and casting diagnostic spells. Seamus ran off back to Gryffindor Tower when the Madam ordered him out of the room. Professor Flitwick rushing off to wake Professor Snape, after telling Pomfrey EXACTLY how he'd found Mister Potter and Mister Finnegan and what Seamus had told him. Professor McGonagall rushed into the room, still in her teaching robes, just as Flitwick flitted through the door.

"What is going on, Poppy?" McGonagall asked, and she gasped when she noticed Harry's forehead. "Oh, my!"

"I'm not sure what's happening," Pomfrey told her. "Filius brought him here, told me he was with Mister Finnegan when he found him. Apparently, the two had been doing things of a... sexual nature, judging by their clothes. He heard Potter scream and rushed to him. Finnegan said he'd been fine until that moment, he just started screaming and fell to the floor holding his head. As far as what the diagnostics are saying, it's only registering the open wounds, nothing else. He's unconscious, Filius said he'd passed out while they were rushing here. That's all I know." She frowned and sighed in frustration. "I can't get the wounds to close up, either. They just keep bleeding!"

Five minutes later, Flitwick came back with Snape in tow. Professor Snape brought a few potions with him, _Dreamless Sleep _and one that dulls pain from dark spell damage. Pomfrey spelled the potions into Potter's stomach, wiped the blood from his forehead and where it had dripped down his face and up into his hair, and wrapped his hand in thick bandages that quickly started soaking through with blood. She then transfigured his clothes into pajamas, removed his glasses and tucked him into bed. She sighed helplessly. He was so deathly pale and his eyelids fluttered in his sleep as he dreamt, even with the potion that was supposed to suppress that. The four adults stood back and fidgeted, sneered, bounced in anxiety and frowned worriedly down at the unconscious teenager.

"What is going on here?" came a high, sickly sweet voice. They all turned to see Umbridge walking into the room and over to the bed which held Harry Potter.

"Oh, Dolores," McGonagall said, turning to scowl at the so-called Headmistress. "Mister Potter has simply found his way to the Hospital Wing again. He fell unconscious on his way back to the dormitories. I assume the bleeding coming from his hand is your doing."

"Watch yourself, Minerva," Umbridge tittered. "Don't forget whom you're speaking to. It was only another detention for his vicious lies. I assure you, that wouldn't have been enough to render him unconscious. So, what's really going on here?"

"'His vicious lies'?" McGonagall quoted through gritted teeth. "Tell me, Dolores, what do you see on Mister Potter's forehead?" Umbridge only glanced at Harry, smiled and turned back to McGonagall, unanswering. "It's a curse scar, the one the Dark Lord gave him when he was a baby. It's bleeding! Curse scars don't just bleed like that after so many years! You want proof the Dark Lord is back and Harry's not lying, look at his head!"

"He must have cut it open himself, looking for more attention," Umbridge replied simply. McGonagall bristled, her face turning red in rage.

"Curse scars can't be cut open," Snape answered before McGonagall could explode. "Not by any blade or any spell Potter might know. Curse scars are remnants of the curse that made them, the residual magic lying dormant. They can only be reopened when the magic of the curse that formed them has been disturbed. Surely, you, as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, should know that. The only way for it to happen, in this case, is for the one who cast the curse to awaken it himself. In other words, the Dark Lord has done something to disturb and awaken the magic in Potter's scar, either directly or indirectly. As Minerva told you," Snape explained, gesturing toward Harry's head. "Your proof that the Dark Lord has returned."

"Lies," Umbridge stated. "All lies. The Minister for Magic has decreed that the Dark Lord is dead and cannot return. If you continue to spread such lies I will have to have you all arrested and brought up on charges for treason and slander. Now, heal the little liar up and send him on his way. I will see to it that he is punished accordingly-"

"Enough!" McGonagall yelled, her hands clenching in fists. Her uncharacteristic shout causing all conscious parties in the room to startle and stare wide-eyed at the usually terse and tight-lipped professor. "That is enough! Dolores Umbridge, you cannot continue to punish the students for made up or unproven accusations! Especially not with Blood Quills or any other torturous manner that sick mind of yours has come up with!

"How dare you speak to me that way!" Umbridge said, but McGonagall shouted over here.

"Harry Potter is not lying! Believe it or not, he doesn't lie! I've never known him to lie about anything, other than telling his friends and teachers that he's 'fine' whenever he clearly isn't fine at all!" McGonagall said with a huff after the last part. "He's not an attention seeker! He HATES all the attention he gets, it's obvious to anyone who bothers to look!" At this, she pointedly glared at Snape - who only raised an eyebrow, then turned back to Umbridge. She opened her mouth to continue but Umbridge beat her to it.

"That is enough, Minerva! Continue and I will call the Aurors and have you removed and banished from the premises!" Umbridge breathed, pursing her lips.

"Oh, you will, will you?" Minerva McGonagall said with a predatory smirk, advancing toward Umbridge and towering over her. "You might be Headmistress on a piece of paper at the Ministry, but the school itself has not accepted you to that position. You have no power to banish anyone from the premises, but I, Minerva Isobel McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, do hereby expel you, Dolores Jane Umbridge, from your post as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and banish your person from this castle and it's surrounding grounds and forests, forevermore!"

"You can't do tha-" Umbridge started to say, her face a mask of outrage.

"_SO MOTE IT BE!_" McGonagall bellowed.

The _Olde Magick _of the castle wards hummed as they wrapped around Umbridge and yanked her off her feet and sent her soaring out of the Hospital Wing and through the castle, screaming and waving her wand to try and stop her momentum. Obviously the castle magic wasn't bothering to watch for obstacles, judging by all the crashing sounds. Umbridge's screaming and the thick heady magic of the school was attracting the attention of all the professors and prefects who were doing their rounds and causing the other students to spill from their common rooms to find out what was going on. They laughed and watched as Dolores Umbridge flew past them and was thrown out of the castle doors, where she landed on her face in the mud, then was dragged the rest of the way across the grounds, her hands scrabbling for purchase as she was pulled by her ankles by an invisible force and tossed out of the gates onto the wet and muddy High Streete of Hogsmeade.

"Wicked," Ron said from the doorway to the Hospital Wing. He and Hermione had rushed there, after Seamus had gotten back to the common room and started telling everyone who was awake what had happened to Harry (of course, leaving out the part about them wanking eachother).

McGonagall humphed, her nostrils flared in anger. "Good riddance!" She turned her gaze to Ron and Hermione, who tensed in apprehension but relaxed when her face melted into a soft smile. "Miss Granger, Mister Weasley, I assume you're here to see Mister Potter?"

"Yes, Professor," Hermione answered, walking into the room with Ron and going over to Harry's bed. "Seamus came running into the common room and told us what happened. We came here right away," she said, sitting on the edge of Harry's bed and brushing his hair away from his bleeding scar. "Curious," she muttered, her brow furrowed in worry and fascination. "How is he?"

Madam Pomfrey shook herself from her stupor at McGonagall's actions and answered. "I'm not sure. There's never been another case like Harry Potter's, most curse scars are just that, scars. There seems to be more to Mister Potter's than just scar tissue and dormant magic. Now, we won't know anything until he wakes up," she said, as she started shooing Ron and Hermione out of the room. "He's been given potions, so he'll be sleeping for some time. You'd best just go back to your dormitories, and you can see him in the morning." With that, she closed the door in their faces before either of them could argue.

Once the door was closed, Flitwick spoke up. "Minerva, Umbridge could be back with Aurors any minute. She might not be able to enter the grounds, but that won't stop anyone else from the Ministry coming in and taking you away."

"Yes," Snape said. "It might be prudent of you to join the Headmaster in hiding at Headquarters for the time being."

"Don't worry about the students or the school," Flitwick cut McGonagall off before she could start arguing. "We'll look after everything in your absense. Besides, I don't think you'll be hiding long... Somehow, I think something big is going to happen very soon," he ended with a wary glance at Harry. All the teachers took a moment to watch the sleeping teen. Pomfrey tutted and moved forward to wipe away the fresh blood dripping from Harry's forehead.

"Well," Madam Pomfrey started, as she stood up straight. "We can't do anything until he wakes up. Let's let him rest." She quickly shooed the other teachers out of the room, before going back to her office. Snape and Flitwick followed McGonagall to her chambers to help her gather her things and escort her to one of the known underground passageways out of the castle.

It didn't take long for the Aurors to show up with a warrant for Minerva McGonagall's arrest. They were forced to leave empty-handed an hour later after searching the castle, waking all the students, and finding nothing.

* * *

Harry slept well into the night, it was just after two o'clock in the morning on the first of March, when he woke up groggily. He was sweaty and shaking, his head still bleeding and showing no sign of stopping. He sat up, his mind racing with what he hoped was just a nightmare, but he had to be sure. "Sirius," he muttered, wiping the blood from his head and reaching for his glasses and his wand. He climbed out of bed on shaky legs and somehow managed to make it out of the Hospital Wing without alerting Madam Pomfrey. He stumbled through the corridors and down the stairs, constantly having to wipe blood from his forehead before it could drip into his eyes. He made it to Gryffindor Tower without running into anyone and woke up the portrait of the Fat Lady, then clambered through the portrait hole. He was surprised to find the common room wasn't empty. Ron and Hermione were still awake, as though they were waiting for him - as were Fred, George and Ginny.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, jumping up from her seat and rushing to her deathly pale and weak best friend. "What are you doing here? You should still be in bed in the Hospital Wing! Look at you!"

"Can't," he murmured. "Sirius is in trouble."

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked after she and the others hurried over as well.

"I don't know," Harry shook his head, making a beeline for the stairs to the boys dormitory. "It might have just been a nightmare, but I need to be sure!" He rushed up the stairs, his friends close behind him. He didn't even bother trying to be quiet when he rushed into the fifth year dorm room and over to his trunk to pull out his invisibility cloak, the Marauders' Map and fresh clothes. He irritably wiped at his forehead again, as he started changing his clothes, mindless of the girls that had followed him into the room.

"What's all the noise?" Neville asked in a sleepy tone, all the bustle having woken him up, along with Dean and Seamus.

"Harry, shouldn't we tell a teacher or something?" Hermione asked helplessly.

"Why, so Umbridge will find out?" Harry scoffed.

"Oh, she won't find anything out, mate," Ron chimed in, smirking. "You missed it, Professor McGonagall went all scary and banished her from the school grounds. Sent her soaring through the castle out on her backside! It was brilliant!"

Harry stopped in the middle of changing his trousers. "That's handy."

"What's handy?" Hermione asked warily.

"I need to get to the Ministry of Magic," Harry said, finishing with changing his clothes, dressing in one of his new t-shirts and a pair of jeans that fit properly. He quickly tugged on a pair of trainers and threw on an outer robe.

"The Ministry?" Fred asked.

"I had a dream, a vision," Harry hurried to explain, wiping his forehead again. "I don't know if it's real, but I have to find out. I saw Sirius being tortured at the Ministry by Voldemort in the Department of Mysteries."

"Sirius Black?" Seamus asked quietly, his question going unanswered.

"Okay, but what's handy about Umbridge getting thrown out?" Ginny asked.

"The Floo in her office is the only one connected to the Floo Network," Harry said. "I can use it to get to the Ministry more quickly than if I try to fly there."

Hermione was shaking her head frantically. "Harry, no! You're in no shape to go to the Ministry and possibly have to fight in a battle! You can barely stand!" Her words sparking Seamus and Neville into motion, starting to get dressed.

"Harry, this is mental," Dean said from his bed. "You should go tell a teacher and let them take care of it."

"I can't do that!" Harry shouted, shoving his way through the throng of redheads. "If I go tell a teacher, they'll just try to stop me! I can't just sit here and do nothing while my godfather, the only family I have, is being tortured and possibly killed!"

"We're coming with you!" Fred and George stated, blocking Harry from leaving, pulling out their wands.

"There's nothing you can say that will change our minds, Harry," George said when Harry opened his mouth to argue.

"So, you'd better get used to the idea," Fred finished.

"I'm coming too," Ginny said, her wand in her hand.

"Not leaving without us!" Ron said. Hermione sighed in resignation.

"No, I don't want any of you to get hurt!" Harry tried to argue while scrubbing at his head with the sleeve of his robe.

"Well, we don't want you to get hurt, either!" Hermione said. Neville and Seamus had finished getting dressed and were nodding along, wands in hand.

Dean sighed at his friends and burrowed back under his blankets. "Don't come crying to me, when you all get your heads lopped off!"

"Thanks a lot, Dean!" Seamus snapped.

Harry's shoulders slumped and looked around at all his friends. He sighed and tossed the useless invisibility cloak onto his bed, because it couldn't cover all of them. "Fine, come on then." Fred and George led the way out of the room and the group quickly and quietly made their way out of Gryffindor Tower and skulked through the shadows, keeping their eyes on the Marauder's Map all the way to Umbridge's office. They were suprised to find Luna waiting outside the door to Umbridge's office.

"Luna?" Harry asked. "What are you doing here?"

"I knew you'd be coming here," Luna said in a dreamy voice with a smile on her face. "A Blibbering Humdinger came and told me that you're going on an adventure, and might need my help."

Harry smiled wryly, knowing Luna would follow him even if he told her not to. Luna's statement also set it in stone for him that she was indeed a Seer, who cleverly covered up her abilities with eccentricities. "Okay," he said resignedly. He unlocked the office door and rushed over to the fireplace.

* * *

Dean waited until he couldn't hear his friends anymore, before he threw on a robe and ran to find one of his professors.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5: Taken

**Here's the next chapter you've been waiting for! I hope you all enjoy it!**

* * *

"Speech."

'Thoughts.'

"~Parseltongue.~"

_Spells and potions._

**+Chapter 5: Taken+**

**-Ministry of Magic. 1 March 1996, 03:02 a.m.-**

The Dark Lord smirked as he watched Harry through their link; heard his worried thoughts; saw his vague useless plans; felt him grow annoyed with his bleeding forehead. Voldemort actively pushed at the magic in the lightning bolt-shaped scar, making it bleed even more, knowing that it might just give Potter enough of a distraction for him to take advantage of later.

He was impressed by the boy's daring and courage, even for a Gryffindor his bravery was admirable. Though, he was far from fearless. The boy could care less about what happened to himself, but he was full of hesitation for letting his friends go along into danger. There were so many emotions going through Harry Potter's head; fear, pain, determination, gratefulness, rage, irritation, worry, a plethora of love and hate. All of these emotions so overwhelming and so foreign to Voldemort that he couldn't help but be in awe of it all. He himself was filled with anticipation of seeing several of those strong emotions aimed directly at him, face to face. To see the fire in Harry Potter's eyes, to feel his fury and intoxicating magic all around him. Just the thought of it alone was filling the Dark Lord with lust.

'My equal,' Voldemort thought, as he turned to his Death Eaters. "Here he comes," he told them, causing Bellatrix to cackle madly. "Positions!"

'Soon, you'll be all mine.'

Harry made a Floo call to Grimmauld Place to check if Sirius was still there, but he could only get hold of Kreacher who was vague in telling him where is Master was. Simply saying he was not at home. Harry growled in frustration and fear, turning to his friends.

"He's not at home," Harry said to Hermione, who frowned and nodded. Harry stood and grabbed more Floo Powder and threw it into the fire. He jumped into the flames and shouted, "Ministry of Magic, London" and was whisked off in a blaze of green. The others looked at each other for a moment before they followed. Harry hadn't waited for his friends to come through before he ran off through the empty Atrium to the lifts, but the sound of squeaky trainer-covered feet told him that they were right behind him.

Once the lift started moving with all of them inside, Hermione made an observation. "This is the Ministry of Magic, even this late at night, there should be people around."

"I know," Harry sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"This is really happening, then," Neville mumbled.

Ron patted Neville on the back. "Glad you came with, though, Nev."

Neville nodded. "Yeah."

"By the way, Harry," Fred started up.

"Fred and I have a few handy pranks in our pockets, should we run into any slimy Death Eaters," George finished. Fred and George passed out the few finished and even unfinished inventions to their friends. Each of them getting something different, Harry was given a chunk of black soot that they called _Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder _and was told to throw it on the ground if he needed to get away but that he should be ready to conjure a _Lumos_ if he wanted to see where he was going.

"Haven't figured out how to get it so the user can still see where he's going while still blinding his opponent," Fred had put in. "But using a _Lumos _should give you enough light to keep you from running into anything, while still being dim enough to keep anyone else from seeing you."

"Thanks," Harry said, thinking that he would probably end up using it at some point tonight.

"Department of Mysteries," spoke the disembodied voice of the lift. Harry gulped and stepped out. He looked around for any movement before he fastened his gaze on the black door that led to the Department of Mysteries. He didn't waste time and ran toward it, his friends trailing behind him. He bit his lip and opened the door. Inside they found a room of doors, quickly growing more irritated as he watched the doors rotate every time they tried one. He wiped at his forehead again and tried another random door. After an infuriating amount of time in the room with the rotating doors, they finally found the Hall of Prophecy, where Harry had seen Sirius in his vision.

They roamed through the aisles of shelves, looking for Sirius, or anyone at all. They came upon the row of shelves that Harry had seen in his vision.

"Harry," Neville murmured. "It's got your name on it." Harry looked at it and picked up the orb, blood that had been wiped from his forehead smearing over the glass. As soon as it left the shelf and was held firmly in his palm it started reciting it's prophecy for everyone in the vicinity to hear.

_"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches,_

_Born to those who have thrice defied him,_

_Born as the seventh month dies,_

_And the Dark Lord shall mark him as his equal but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not,_

_And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives,_

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies."_

"Well, that's unsettling," Ron muttered.

Then they heard a cackle and turned to see Bellatrix Lestrange standing not ten feet away from them. Harry slipped the prophecy into his pocket and glanced around, groaning in annoyance when he noticed they were surrounded, even going so far as to roll his eyes before he turned his attention back to Bellatrix.

"Gotcha!" Bellatrix sang. Harry glowered and swiped his wand through the air, throwing a whole row of glass orbs to shatter over Bellatrix's head. She shrieked and the other Death Eaters shouted, as Harry's friends did the same thing to the rest of them.

"Run!" Harry yelled and bolted back the way they came, hoping his friends would follow and not be hit by the retaliatory hexes and curses that were being thrown at them. He ran through a door, only to fall through the air when he found no ground beyond the door. His friends tumbled after him, the only thing saving them all from becoming splatters on the floor was Hermione's quick wand work, levitating them all slowly to the ground.

They all stood and looked around, finding themselves in a stone chamber with only an empty stone archway in the middle and one passageway leading to who knows where. The moment of peace left Harry noticing just how tired he was, and his damn scar was still bleeding leaving him even weaker. Wasn't blood supposed to clot up a wound at some point? Didn't help that his hand wasn't in the best of shape either.

Their peaceful moment didn't last long. Black smoke started billowing around them. Harry was knocked to the ground and a heavy weight settled onto his back. When the smoke cleared, Harry noticed all of his friends were captured by Death Eaters and there was the knee of another one in his back, holding him down. Taking a second to notice with a sense of satisfaction that Bellatrix had cuts all over her face, he turned his head to the side to see who it was that was on top of him, but this person was cloaked and was wearing a mask, unlike the others. The cloaked figure started reaching for Harry's wand to disarm him and Harry started struggling to get free. Then the room was filled with light and the trill of a phoenix. Relief filled Harry's mind and he took the moment of distraction and twisted himself enough to ram an elbow into the side of the masked figure's head, earning a grunt from said figure and knocking him off of his back.

Harry scrambled to his feet and ran to his godfather, who had arrived along with the rest of the Order of the Phoenix. Fighting ensued, spells flying everywhere, children running for cover or fighting alongside the Order members. Harry fought beside Sirius. Sirius taking on Bellatrix, while Harry took on Lucius Malfoy. The masked figure had disappeared the moment Dumbledore showed up.

Most of the fighting didn't last very long, the Order outnumbering the Death Eaters that were present. Most of the Death Eaters ran away. Harry sent Lucius flying backward and turned just in time to see a frustrated Bellatrix throw a familiar bright green curse at Sirius. Harry didn't even think about it; he dove forward and knocked both Sirius and himself to the ground just as the curse soared over their heads. The curse passed so close it made Harry's hair flutter as it breezed by him. Sirius stared up at his godson, who was on top of him and looking furiously after the witch who had turned tail and ran the moment she saw Harry interfere.

"Thank you for that," Sirius told him lightly. "Harry?" Sirius tried to get Harry's attention, but he was already up off the floor and running. Sirius just missed grabbing hold of Harry's robes as he ran after her. "Harry!"

Harry chased her down the stone passageway, through halls and corridors, all the way out to the Atrium. When she cackled and began taunting him, he flung a tripping jinx at her and Bellatrix yelped and crashed to the floor face first, her nose making a sickening crunch as it collided with the black marble floor. Harry skidded to a halt, as Bellatrix turned over and glared up at him, blood flowing from her nose. Harry flicked his wand and silently disarmed the witch, catching her wand in his other hand. He breathed heavily, both in fatigue and anger, as he looked down at the wand made of twisted black wood - as twisted as its owner. He gripped the wand in both hands and snapped it in half and threw it aside. Bellatrix gasped and growled in outrage.

"If you ever attack someone I love again, then so help me, whatever you do to them, I will do to you!" he shouted. "I should curse you just for trying it!" He raised his wand and aimed it at her, his hand shaking slightly. Bellatrix cowered in fear of the wizard standing over her. His magic was pouring off of him in waves. Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm himself, but he was still too angry to let her go. He shook his head and waved his wand, throwing every prank hex and curse he could think of at her. When he was finished, Bellatrix was a twitching, wheezing, pimply mass of oozing, bleeding, brightly-colored hair, flesh and feathers. She even had a beak. "Next time, you won't be so lucky," he hissed at her, his right eye closing as blood dripped down into it from his forehead.

"Promise?" a voice hissed into his ear and he whirled around, wand at the ready... only to be punched in the jaw.

He grunted as he was sent sprawling to the floor, his wand slipping from his hand and clattering to the floor, his glasses flying off of his face. He hissed in pain, bringing his hand up to his jaw and split lip, his other hand reaching for his wand. No sooner had he looked at the blurry spot where his wand lay did it fly off the ground and into his attacker's outstretched hand. Harry stilled when he sat up and looked up at who it was. It was Voldemort, he could tell even through his fuzzy eyesight and Harry mentally cursed himself for blushing. There he stood, looking like Tom Riddle, in a cloak that Harry thought he recognized as the one belonging to the Death Eater that was holding him down earlier. And now that he looked carefully, he saw a big dark spot on the Dark Lord's cheek that could only be a bruise.

Harry couldn't help the smirk or the snide comment. "You hit like a girl."

The Dark Lord shrugged. "Well, it's not often that I resort to muggle methods, but," Voldemort paused and gestured to his own face. "An eye for an eye."

Harry scowled and moved to stand up, but when he got to the point of putting weight onto his tired legs, he crumpled back onto the floor. "Shit," he hissed to himself.

"Oh, yes," the Dark Lord muttered, squatting down beside Harry. "That's my fault." Suddenly, like a snake striking out, he lunged forward and wrapped a hand around Harry's throat, squeezing and pressing him backward until he was on the ground. Harry winced when his head collided with the floor, his hands shooting up to try and pry Voldemort's hand off of his neck. The Dark Lord smiled almost triumphantly, as he watched Harry struggle. He dug his fingers in deeper, choking and pressing into the pressure points, taking great glee in watching Harry's eyes widen in fear and his mouth gape as he tried to draw breath. Harry scratched at the hand around his throat with his finger nails, trying and failing to remove it. Harry tried reaching up to wrap his own hands around the Dark Lord's throat, but his arms were shorter than Voldemort's. Just as the boy's eyes were closing and his struggling limbs went slack as he passed into unconsciousness, a powerful stinging hex hit Voldemort's hand, forcing him to let go. He growled and turned to see Dumbledore standing across the other side of the Atrium.

"Leave him alone, Tom," Dumbledore said, moving closer with his wand raised.

The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes and stood, leaving Harry passed out on the floor. "I can't do that, Albus." He sent a curse at Dumbledore, who deflected it and sent one of his own right back. Voldemort threw up a thick opaque black shield and turned to pick up his prize. Dumbledore cast a particularly clever spell that disabled Voldemort's shield and raised his wand to cast another spell, but faltered when the shield fell and he saw Harry in the Dark Lord's arms.

"Tom, don't do this," Dumbledore implored. The members of the Order of the Phoenix and Harry's classmates arrived into the Atrium a few seconds later. Remus was the first to notice what was happening and lunged to hold Sirius back and out of Dumbledore's way.

"Do what, Albus?" Voldemort taunted. He gave the Headmaster a lazy shrug. "I don't plan on killing him any time soon, I promise. I still need him!" The Dark Lord pressed a mocking kiss to Harry's forehead and throwing a wink at the aging wizard, confusing Dumbledore who gave him a pensive and calculating look. Voldemort turned to his Death Eaters that had finally shown up, just as the Ministry's Floos flared to life, emitting Ministry employees in various stages of dress after they'd all gotten the alert that someone had broken into the Ministry. The Minister himself stood there dumbfounded in his pajamas and bowler hat. "Bring the Seer," Voldemort told his followers. He sent a wandless _Fiendfyre_ at Dumbledore, then used that opportunity to apparate away.

By the time Dumbledore had put the fire out, the Death Eaters had disappeared, taking Luna Lovegood and an incapacitated Bellatrix Lestrange with them. Voldemort was long gone with Harry in his arms. Sirius dropped to his knees and started crying and Hermione cried into Ron's shoulder. Dumbledore stared at the place where the Dark Lord had been standing, along with the rest of the wizards and witches who had shown up in time to see the Dark Lord Voldemort disappear with Harry Potter. The only things left in the middle of the Atrium were puffs of smoke, small pools of blood and Harry's glasses lying on the floor.

* * *

**-Slytherin Castle, somewhere in Ireland. Same day.-**

The Dark Lord apparated directly into his own personal bed chamber - a large and majestic room filled with the characteristic Slytherin colors - and carefully laid his cargo onto the king-sized bed. He raised his wand and waved a _Scourgify_ over the still form of Harry Potter, removing all the dirt and blood and cast another spell that removed Harry's outer robe without moving him, because Voldemort knew he'd have stuff in his pockets. He also took his shoes, leaving Harry in only his jeans and t-shirt and nothing that could be used as a weapon.

He looked down at the almost angelic face, raising his wand and healing up Harry's lip and jaw, and the finger marks on his neck, then traced the tip of his wand over Harry's bloody scar, closing it up as well. He put the tip of his wand into his own mouth and licked the small amount of blood off, as he reached to run his thumb over the scar in an almost reverent manner. He gasped and almost dropped his wand, when he felt the magic of the scar push back. He slowly sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving the lightning bolt shaped scar. He drew his wand over the scar again, muttering something in Latin that caused the scar to glow a faint gold for a moment before fading out again. Voldemort scoffed out a mirthless chuckle as he caressed Harry's cheek. A Horcrux. The boy was a Horcrux! His own accidental Horcrux!

'That settles it,' he thought. 'He's never leaving my side again.'

He leaned over and placed a possessive kiss over Harry's mouth, dipping his tongue briefly between the slightly-opened lips, before he pulled away. He smirked smugly as he waved his wand again and a Goblin-made unbreakable steel chain and shackle closed around Harry's ankle, tethering him to the heavy bed frame.

"Mine," he whispered, then turned and left to lock up Potter's wand in the safe in his office, along with anything else he found in the boy's robe pockets. Afterward, he went to shower and change his clothes, the whole time his mind was drifting over the revelation that Harry Potter was much more than an enemy or potential partner.

When he was clean, healed and dressed, he went back into his bedroom to find that Harry was awake and tugging at the chain frantically with his hands, pulling so hard that both his hands and ankle were bleeding.

"Don't bother," Voldemort said, closing the door behind himself. Harry jumped and turned to look at him; he hadn't heard him come in. "Goblin steel. It won't break and the bed is magically enhanced oak. You won't be able to free yourself, short of cutting off your own foot." Harry slumped in defeat. Voldemort stepped over to the bed, a hand fishing a couple of potion phials out of his pockets. Harry watched him carefully as he walked at a leisurely pace around the bed to the side Harry was chained to. "Relax, I'm not going to hurt you." Harry frowned.

"W-What do you want with me then?" Harry asked. The Dark Lord studied Harry for a moment, then held up the phials. "What are those?" Harry eyed the clear phials, not recognizing the potions.

"One is a simple sleeping draught, the other is a new potion that I brewed especially for you," Voldemort answered, enjoying Harry's look of confusion. "You should have heard about it in school recently." He smirked when Harry's face paled and looked frantically between his face and the phial in his hand. "Are you going to be a good boy and drink it, or do I have to force you?"

Harry gulped and bit his lip, inching backward as far as he could until the chain stopped him. He started shaking his head. "I-I don't want to drink it."

Voldemort sighed and rolled his eyes. "Force it is, then." He turned and set the other phial down on the side table, then made a show of rolling up his sleeves. Harry was still shaking his head, his mouth pinched shut and his leg tugging on the chain. The Dark Lord knelt on the bed, grabbing Harry's leg and tugged him closer. He climbed over Harry and pinned his flailing arms above his head, then flicked his wand and made more chains close around the Harry's wrists.

"No no no no no," Harry kept repeating.

"Yes," Voldemort countered, as he grabbed Harry's jaw and pried it open, uncorking the potion phial with the other hand. There were tears in Harry's eyes and he whimpered, as the potion was poured down his throat and then his jaw was held shut and his nose covered - held there until he swallowed it. Once he did, Voldemort let him go and climbed off of him, as Harry gasped in air and coughed - hoping to gag and throw it up. "Just for that, you don't get the other potion." He stowed the other potion phial back into his pocket and went to the door. "I'll be back later," he said over his shoulder, then he left, leaving Harry chained to the bed by his ankle and wrists.

Harry was left wondering why he would have wanted to take the other potion - a sleeping draught, he said? Then he thought back to the first lesson that introduced the potions saying something about the effects being painful. Then he remembered Hermione's explanation one evening in the common room, after she'd read everything she could and had figured out how it all worked.

* * *

_"The first potion is _Masculum Graviditate_, Latin for Male Pregnancy. The second is _Masculum Ovi Ubertatem_, Latin for Male Egg Fertilization. When someone takes the first potion, it travels through their digestive system and collects the drinker's magic as it goes along. Once it reaches a certain point, it begins the growth of a magical sack inside the male body. Since this growth involves growing not only flesh and blood, but veins and nerves as well, it's a very painful process. That's why the drinker is also supposed to drink a sleeping draught or pain nullifying potion, so they can get through the process without having to feel it all. This must be done three times over three days, until the sack is finished growing."_

_"A sack?" Ron asked, confused. _

_"Basically, the drinker would be growing their own uterus," Hermione clarified. Ron and Harry both grimaced. "The second potion, when it is taken, also travels through the digestive system and collects the drinker's magic as well as their DNA, forming an egg and once it reaches the newly grown sack in deposits itself inside and waits to be fertilized by the drinker's partner, who would have to use the spell _Seminis Inuerrere _to make sure their semen goes to the right place, shall we say."_

_"Where is this sack, exactly?" Harry'd asked._

_"It's supposed to grow inside your colon, approximately four to six inches past the rectum," she'd stated so matter-of-factly that it made both boys gape at her; she was so clinical sometimes, it felt like they were talking to a machine. At least, that was Harry's thought._

_"Wait," Ron said. "Where does the baby come out?" Hermione just raised an eyebrow. "No..." Ron shook his head, then stared at her for second and his face turned to a mask of horror. "It comes out your bum hole?!" Hermione smirked at his squeaky exclamation. Ron went on to mutter something about never pooping again._

_"Yes, to put it bluntly," she replied. "Though, you'd have to go to a healer to give birth. A male's bone structure isn't right for giving birth, your coccyx is in the way. Your tail bone?" she clarified at Ron's confused expression, who then nodded in understanding._

* * *

Harry paled as he recalled what Hermione said about the first potion. "Oh, shit..." he muttered, looking at the door Voldemort had just gone through.

He found out just how painful it can be thirty minutes later when it started to work and an intense burning spread through his abdomen. He screamed.

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 6: Captivity

**New chapter! I hope you all enjoy it! Some minor violence in here but it's nothing too bad. And nothing compared to what I have coming up later on. =)**

* * *

"Speech."

'Thoughts.'

"~Parseltongue.~"

_Spells and potions._

**+Chapter 6: Captivity+**

**-Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, somewhere in Northern Scotland. Friday 1 March 1996, 05:45 a.m.-**

The Headmaster's office was filled to the brim with people, but it was silent. Dumbledore sat in his desk chair looking grim, but confused and thoughtful at the same time. All the Order Members who had been at the Ministry were standing about the room, trying to think of what to do next. Sirius stood off to the side, his eyes red from crying and his fists clenched tightly in anger and worry. Remus stood beside him, trying to comfort his old friend. Harry's friends were sitting in chairs in front of the Headmaster's desk and on the sofa in front of the fire. They'd already told the Order everything they knew about why they were at the Ministry in the first place. The only person who seemed completely unimpressed with what was going on was Snape.

"Severus," Dumbledore said, turning to the dour Potions Master. Snape turned his full attention to the Headmaster. "I need you to do a bit of snooping. I need to know why Voldemort took Harry and what he plans to do with him. He said he wasn't planning to kill him, and I am quite perplexed by that. I can't think of any reason for him to want to keep Harry alive, other than to try and turn him to his side. But I think he knows that will never happen, Harry would never turn his back on those who love him. He used that very loyalty Harry has to his friends and loved ones to lure him to the Ministry, so he must know that he won't be able to change his mind. See what you can find out." Snape simply nodded and turned to leave. "And I need to know why he saw fit to take Miss Lovegood, as well." Snape paused and nodded again.

"Snape," Sirius said before the man could leave. "Please? He's my godson, he's all I have. Please find some way to bring him back." Snape stared at him for a long moment, his expression blank. He seemed to come to some decision a minute later, and the Potions professor gave an almost imperceptible nod and left in a billow of black.

Hermione looked around, biting her lip, looking like she wanted to say something. "Sir?" she finally asked, addressing Dumbledore.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"I think I know why he took Luna," she said quietly, but she caught everyone's attention anyway.

"Oh?" Dumbledore asked, his eyebrows high up on his forehead.

"Well, he and Harry have some kind of mind link, you know that," she started. When Dumbledore nodded, she continued. "Well, then he can see everything Harry sees and hears his thoughts and everything, yes?" Again, Dumbledore nodded. "Well, Harry thinks that Luna might be a Seer... and he's not the only one who thinks that, either." Ron nodded from his seat, as did Neville.

"A Seer?" Remus asked curiously from his place beside an almost despondent Sirius.

"Yes," Hermione answered. "You see, everyone just thinks she's strange or 'Loony' as everyone calls her. Harry thinks - and so do I - that Luna's strangeness is just her way of covering up the fact that she can See. It might also be a coping mechanism, as well. It might be a bit confusing for her, maybe she has difficulty distinguishing what is happening around her and what she is Seeing. I think she can See both into the future and into the past, she knows things she couldn't possibly know otherwise. I mean, even tonight, when we went to Umbridge's office to use the Floo, Luna was already there waiting for us by the door when we got there. There was no way she could have known we'd be going there! But she mentioned some creature had told her that we'd be going on an adventure and that we'd need her help. What was it she called it?" She turned to Ron and the other students.

"A Blibbering Humdinger," Neville supplied.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, that."

Dumbledore hummed in thought. "Very astute, Miss Granger. I'll have to speak to Xenophilius about this, when I go to deliver him the unfortunate news that his daughter has been kidnapped by the Dark Lord." Hermione and all the other children in the room frowned and slumped more in their seats, obviously they all felt guilty in some way about what happened. Dumbledore observed them for a moment, before he turned to the returned Minerva McGonagall. Dumbledore had taken the opportunity, while at the Ministry, to have her arrest warrant voided, as well as starting the process of getting Sirius pardoned - now that everything was out in the open and no one was questioning his credibility or sanity any longer. "Minerva, if you would take the students back to their dormitories. I think they are in need of some much deserved rest." McGonagall nodded and started shooing the students out the door. "Oh, and students?" he asked, gaining the attention of all the teenagers. "None of this is your fault. None of you are responsible for what has happened, nor is Harry. The only one at fault here is Voldemort, remember that."

Once they were gone, Dumbledore turned to the rest of his Order, trying to think of what to tell them. There really wasn't much they could do until they found where Harry and Luna were being held. In the end, Dumbledore only told his Order of the Phoenix to continue what they'd been doing, and to put a higher priority on finding the Dark Lord's followers and their lairs. They had all left with their assignments, muttering ideas to eachother. Remus had dragged Sirius away, muttering something about finding the werewolves.

Once his office was empty, the weary Headmaster sighed deeply and relaxed back into his seat, looking and feeling every bit his age.

* * *

**-Slytherin Castle, somewhere in Ireland. Friday 1 March 1996, 11:01 a.m.-**

The Dark Lord Voldemort lay in his bed, beside the smaller body of his chosen. He lay awake on his side, his head raised on his elbow, staring at the innocent sleeping face, observing the lovely specimen. Harry Potter had grown up quite nicely in the last year. He looked more of an adult than he did the last time he'd seen him up close. Who knew one year could make such a difference between a fourteen year old and a fifteen year old?

He'd taken the shackles off when he returned to his chambers, when he'd found Potter passed out from the pain, with cuts around his wrists and ankle and tear tracks on his cheeks. He didn't heal them yet, and he didn't feel guilty about that, he'd warned the brat before hand, had given him the opportunity to cooperate but he'd decided not to. Voldemort had taken notice of the bandages on Potter's left hand, wondering why he hadn't noticed it before. When he unwrapped them, he thought that he should have kept a better watch on the boy's school life, because he had no idea where this wound came from, only that it read '_I must not tell lies_.' carved into the back of his hand. He'd tried healing it, but it wouldn't close with only a simple healing charm, so he'd wrapped it back up and decided that he'd have to find something more specific to healing whatever this wound was, as soon as Potter woke up and answered his questions.

He watched the boy sleep, reaching a hand to brush his hair away from the legendary scar - the scar that held a piece of him. He ran his fingers over it and down Harry Potter's cheek, filled with an odd sense of disbelief. He watched Potter wince in his sleep, letting out a small whimper. Yes, there was that slight hiccup. He'd have to find a way to touch him without causing pain, otherwise, he would find bedding the little brat to be that much more difficult. 'But for now, Potter will just have to bear it,' he thought, as he wrapped his arms around the boy and pulled him against his chest, spooning him. "Mine," he whispered possessively against the raven locks.

* * *

Harry awoke slowly, the first thing he noticed was how much pain he was in. His head hurt, his wrists and hand hurt, his ankle hurt and there was a general ache in his bones. The second thing he noticed was that he was in a bed that was far too comfortable to be one from the Hospital Wing or Gryffindor dormitory. Then, he noticed the warmth against his back. His eyes shot open, and upon seeing the Slytherin colors, the events of the night before came flooding back to him. He stiffened, turning his head slowly to look at who was behind him. When his own emerald eyes connected with a set of curiously violet eyes, crinkled in amusement, and noticed the face they were set into, Harry jolted upright and scampered away. With a shout, he fell off the side of the tall bed and landed on the hard wood floor with a dull thud.

Harry hissed in pain. "Ow, son of a..." Harry whimpered, rubbing his sore backside.

The Dark Lord chuckled, then he was met with the sound of fabric and knobbly limbs sliding across the floor. "Come out from under the bed," he ordered.

"...No."

"You can't stay under there forever," Voldemort argued.

"Let me go home and I'll come out," Harry tried.

"No," Voldemort parroted. Harry sighed. "Stop acting like a child and come out of there."

"I am a child and make me," Harry hissed, then slapped his hand over his mouth, realizing what he'd just said and to whom.

"Gladly," the Dark Lord answered, pulling out his wand and casting a summoning charm. Like a spring had snapped, a petulant looking Harry was ejected out from under the bed with a yelp and flung back on top of it. Barely a second later, Harry was wrapped in tight ropes that kept him from moving his arms and legs. A hand reached out and turned Harry, so he was lying on his side facing the Dark Lord. Harry bit his lip and glared mutinously at the smirking and obviously amused Voldemort. The Dark Lord that, now that Harry paid attention, he noticed was topless - at least from what he could see, he was only topless. Harry wanted to kick himself for blushing again.

The Dark Lord made himself comfortable, lying on his side. "First things first," Voldemort said, reaching behind him for the potion phial he had sitting ready on the nightstand. He brought it around and held it in front of Harry's face.

"What's that?" Harry asked warily.

"A temporary vision correcting potion. Your glasses were left behind at the Ministry and I don't know what strength to make them to transfigure you a new pair, so this will have to do for now," Voldemort explained. Harry hesitated and flicked his eyes between the phial and the Dark Lord's face - much like he had the night before. "If you don't want it, I have no problem with letting you stumble around blindly. More entertainment for me that way." He started turning to put phial back on the nightstand.

"Fine," Harry grumbled.

"Open up," Voldemort instructed, uncorking the phial. Harry opened his mouth, his eyes glaring at the man in front of him. The potion was poured into Harry's mouth and Harry swallowed it with a grimace.

Then, Harry squeezed his eyes shut and growled, burying his face into the bed clothes. "What is with you and giving me potions that hurt like a bitch?!" he shouted into the mattress.

"It's not intentional, I assure you."

"You could have warned me!"

"Where's the fun in that?"

"It feels like a grindylow is chewing on my eyeballs!"

"That's an interesting mental image."

Harry lifted his head and glared at Voldemort again, only slightly surprised at how well the potion worked; at how clearly he could see.

The Dark Lord jabbed the tip of his wand against Harry's chest. "Now then, allow me to explain a few things to you. No, stay quiet and listen," he said, when Harry went to open his mouth. Harry snapped his mouth shut again, because really, he wasn't in the best position to argue. "You will not be leaving here. I want you out of the war and out of my way, I also want those genetics of yours to be put to good use. So, I'm not going to kill you. That would be a waste of good wizarding blood." Harry's brow furrowed, his mouth opening to argue again. "You're probably under the same delusion as the rest of the Wizarding World, thinking I want blood purity, but I'll let you in on a little secret - I don't. No, that would make me a hypocrite, as I myself am only a half-blood." Now Harry seemed thoroughly confused. "I only allow people to think that's what I want, because that's what most of my followers want, since most of them are Purebloods and I wish to keep them relatively happy... for now. But I'm only using my Pureblood followers for their political power and their knowledge of Dark Magic. No, I could care less about the purity of one's blood. What I care about is the Magic. You see, if things continue the way they have been, Magic itself will die out, I want to change that. I have no intention of killing off all the Muggleborns, it's their blood that is the future of the Wizarding World. The only problem is, they're bringing their Muggle superstitions and religions into the Wizarding World with them. Add on top of that, the Ministry is getting lazy. The old practices are dying out, and that's something that cannot happen. Magic is in itself a religion, you might say. There are rituals and traditions that need to be observed in order to keep the Magic strong. Magic has to be used to its full extent to keep it from stagnating and then fading away.

I need the power my Pureblood followers hold in the Wizengamot to put laws into motion that will enforce the old traditions and laws that will allow the removal of Muggleborn children from their Muggle upbringings. I know, I know, everyone thinks that's a heartless and cruel thing to do - taking children from their parents - but the thing is, most Muggleborn children end up being shunned or abused by their Muggle families, because their thick-headed parents and relatives don't understand what is going on with their children. Very few Muggles have the capacity to appreciate their Magical children." At this point, Harry was frowning and looking away from Voldemort's eyes. "I gather you know what I'm talking about. You were raised by Muggle relatives, correct?" Voldemort asked. Harry reluctantly nodded. "And I assume they didn't understand you or might have even been scared of you?"

Harry nodded again, still not meeting the Dark Lord's eyes. "They didn't want to understand," Harry muttered. "They were content to just think of me as a freak."

Voldemort nodded. "I was raised in a similar situation. I was brought up in an orphanage, a Muggle orphanage. See, that's something else that needs changing. Whenever a Magical child is orphaned, there is nowhere for them to go but a Muggle orphanage. I want to establish Magical orphanages, that are equipped to deal with young wizards and witches who lose control of their Magic. Also, I wish to make sure those orphanages are funded well enough, that the children in them aren't fighting each other for food and clothing, and to make sure the directors and employees aren't able to embezzle the money they are meant to spend on the children."

Harry looked up at Voldemort, looking a little stricken. "That... actually makes a lot of sense."

"It does," the Dark Lord nodded. "But no one else has bothered to try and change any of this, they just allow things to continue the way they have been. To continue in a way that they are comfortable and familiar with. No one wants to make the hard choices to ensure the future, they only want to make sure they don't hurt anyone else's feelings." Voldemort sneered. "But I will. I don't care about what anyone else thinks or feels, I will do what needs to be done. It would be easier and more effective for the Wizarding World to work together, but, alas, all the Muggleborns are offended by the notion of taking them and others like them from their families. I've tried to get the old ways reinstated back into the Hogwart's curriculum, but Dumbledore is one of those people who wants to make everyone happy, or at least the majority happy, but the majority is Muggleborn."

"Well, all things considered, I think you're going about this all wrong," Harry muttered haltingly. "But this doesn't explain why you want me here and are forcefeeding me pregnancy potions."

The Dark Lord raised a challeging eyebrow. "'_Going about this all wrong'_?" he quoted, ignoring Harry's other statement.

Harry looked away. "Well, I don't know enough about the old ways to know what needs to change, but I don't think you need to take children from their families. I think it would make a huge difference if children and their families were just educated about Magic at an earlier age. Especially Muggleborns and Muggle-raised. I admit, finding out I was a wizard at eleven was one hell of a rabbit hole to suddenly fall into," he ended, looking up at the Dark Lord again.

"You didn't know you were a wizard before then?" Voldemort asked, masking his surprise.

Harry bit his lip and looked away again. "No, my relatives were convinced they could stamp it out of me, so they never said anything. I didn't know I was a wizard until Hagrid came to get me to take me shopping for my school supplies." He flinched when Voldemort suddenly started growling.

"That. Is exactly. What I'm talking about!" the Dark Lord said through gritted teeth, glaring at Harry.

"Okay! But stop looking at me like it's my fault!" Harry squeaked. Voldemort rolled over the other way, flinging the comforter off of himself and standing up. Harry blushed all the way up to his ears when he realized the man had been completely naked the whole time. The Dark Lord started pacing, hissing to himself. Harry cringed when he noticed the snake by the fire, when it uncoiled itself and slithered over to the Dark Lord, to slither up and over his shoulders, hissing in a comforting manner. Harry couldn't help the sudden tightness in his jeans. It was quite a sight - a handsome, well-toned man looking to be in his mid-twenties, with lightly tanned skin, standing completely naked in the middle of the room with a massive snake curled around his shoulders.

Harry forced the arousal down and wriggled a little in his bindings. "Um...," he murmured, hesitant to get the angry Dark Wizard's attention, but he got it anyway. "Could you possibly untie me? My arms are going numb." The Dark Lord lazily flicked his wand and Harry was released, then he went back to pacing around, naked, as though Harry weren't even there. Harry sat up and rubbed at the places where the ropes had been digging in. He hesitated again, then decided it couldn't wait anymore. "Where's the bathroom?" Voldemort pointed over his shoulder to a door that stood open behind him. Harry slipped off of the bed and went into the bathroom and relieved his full bladder of its load. When he returned to the bedroom, he limped over to the bed and sat back down. He looked around, wondering what he should do, when Nagini, the snake, slithered off of Voldemort's shoulders and over to the bed. She slithered up onto the bed and over to Harry, raising herself up to observe him. She flicked her tongue out, the tip of it brushing Harry's cheek, making him shiver. "~Hello!~" Harry hissed to her in Parseltongue.

The Dark Lord's head shot around to look at Harry. He'd known the boy could speak Parseltongue, but hearing it out of his mouth was still surprising.

"~Greetingssss, Hatchling,~" Nagini replied, slithering up onto his lap.

"~Hatchling?~" Harry asked.

"~You are not adult yet, you are hatchling,~" she answered, curling her body around him and settling down. Harry reached out and hesitantly stroked her diamond-shaped head. She hissed in pleasure and curled around him tigher, coaxing him into continuing, which he gladly did. When he started scratching the back of her head lightly, she tilted her head to give him better access, hissing a little more loudly. "~Oh, yessss, right there!~" she hissed, her tongue flicking and her head swaying in bliss. Harry chuckled and scratched a little harder, going down her body a little, scratching away dead scales that hadn't fallen off the last time she'd shed. She settled down on his lap, hissing pleasantly, curling the rest of her body around him and holding him in an almost loving embrace.

"~You going to sleep, then?~" Harry asked her. She stayed silent and simply nudged her head against his hand, to get him to keep scratching and patting her. He kept going, really not minding giving the snake the affection she wanted from him.

"You're getting scales all over my bed," a deep voice cut in. Harry looked up and met the Dark Lord's intense stare, and blushed. He stopped scratching Nagini's head, much to her dismay. She nudged his hand again, trying to get him to continue.

"Sorry," Harry muttered.

The Dark Lord waved it off. "It's fine, it's already full of her scales anyway," he said, pacing around the bed. "Though, it's your own fault when she starts getting spoiled and won't leave you alone."

Harry giggled and shrugged, then started scratching her scales again. When Harry couldn't take the stare coming from the Dark Lord anymore, he looked up at him and blushed deeper. "Could you... put some clothes on?" he asked, looking away.

Voldemort smirked evilly and paced over to stand in front of Harry. "No," he said, his smirk widening when Harry looked up at him and seemed to choke when he realized his face was level with the Dark Lord's groin. "Does it bother you?"

"N-No," Harry lied terribly, hastily looking away again.

"You know we have a link between our minds," the Dark Lord started, leaning down to put his hands on the bed on either side of Harry, putting their faces inches apart. "I know all about your dreams, Harry," he purred, enjoying the bright red of the boy's face. Harry's eyes widened and he tried to back up, but Nagini was a dead weight, holding him where he was. "They weren't a one-sided affair, though." He chuckled at Harry's mortified expression. The Dark Lord took on a contemplative expression, peering at Harry like Hermione would peer at a new book. "In approximately two weeks, I will be having you, right here on this bed, whether you like it or not. My only debate is whether to... 'break you in' before hand?" He grinned wolfishly, as Harry's eyes widened and he shook his head frantically. "Then again, you've had a number of others 'breaking you in' as of late, haven't you?" Voldemort asked darkly through gritted teeth, his amused violet eyes going red in fury. Voldemort silently debated for a moment, as Harry's face paled drastically. Then, Voldemort snatched his hand behind Harry's neck and pulled him in for a rough kiss. Harry squeaked, his hands pushing against the muscular body that was pushing him backward and climbing over him, dislodging Nagini.

Nagini slithered away, muttering indignantly about, "~Stupid mammals!~"

Harry kept his mouth firmly closed, his hands pushing and slapping at the Dark Lord; flailing limbs effectively made him look like a flopping fish. Voldemort grabbed Harry's arms and pinned them down, as he bit at the brat's lips to get them open, plunging his tongue into the warm and whimpering cavern. Then, one of Harry's flailing limbs - his left leg to be precise - made contact with a naked groin. Voldemort hissed and growled against Harry's lips, his grip loosening on the boy's wrists. Harry pulled his hands free and planted them against the Dark Lord's face and pushed his head up and away from him.

"Get off me!" Harry shouted, as he panted from lack of air, his lips bruised, while he kept his hands on Voldemort's face.

Voldemort started growling angrily - only for his growl to be overshadowed by a louder growl coming from Harry's stomach. Harry 's ears burned and he blushed down his neck, as the Dark Lord sighed heavily, his eyes going from a furious crimson red to an annoyed reddish pink.

One of Voldemort's eyes was twitching in annoyance, as he sat up. "To be continued," the Dark Lord grumbled and got up off of Harry, making his way to his enormous walk-in closet.

Harry heaved a deep sigh of relief and sat up, watching the door the Dark Lord had gone through. He rubbed at his wrists, still covered in cuts from the shackles and now bruises from Voldemort's grip. He sighed again despairingly. What was he supposed to do now? 'Stuck in Voldemort's home -in his bedroom!- with no wand and being forced to take potions so he can knock me up!?' Harry thought angrily. 'The World has been flipped upside down and I didn't even notice!'

"Stop thinking so hard, you'll strain something," Voldemort said, as he came out of his closet dressed in sleek black robes with emerald green trim. Harry's gaze trailed over him briefly, his cheeks blushing again and his heartbeat fluttering. "Follow me," the Dark Lord commanded, walking to the huge set of double doors that led out of the room and into the corridor.

Harry scooted off of the bed gingerly, his wrists and ankle sore from the shackles and his body achy from his escapade through the Ministry of Magic. He padded barefoot through the room and to the door that Voldemort was holding open, waiting for him. Voldemort slammed the door behind them, taking out some of his ire on the door. Harry flinched and followed the irritated Dark Lord down the short corridor when he stalked away. Harry tried to keep up with him, but he kept limping and Voldemort was walking at a brisk pace. After a moment, Voldemort walked through a door and left it open for Harry to follow. When Harry walked into the room, he noticed it was a smaller dining room for a castle this size, with a table that only held room for about eight people. There were two place settings, one at the head of the table, where Voldemort sat, and one on his immediate right. Harry limped over and sat, his stomach rumbling in anticipation when food appeared as soon as he was seated. His mouth started watering and he glanced at the Dark Lord to see that he was already filling his own plate, then dove into the brunch set before him, not sure how long he would have to eat. He filled his plate with one of the egg and ham sandwiches, some bacon, a couple peeled hard-boiled eggs, and grabbed a waffle that he topped with fruit and maple syrup. He started eating and his eyes fluttered shut at how good it tasted. They ate in silence, Harry polished off his plate fairly quickly, his eyes flicking to the berry fruit tarts that were in front of him. He snatched one up and started eating it. He glanced at Voldemort, and faltered a little to notice he was being watched closely by the man, who had an amused air about him. Harry blushed faintly and looked away, nibbling on the fruit tart.

"You're eating as though you're afraid I will take it away from you," Voldemort commented.

Harry shrugged. "Wasn't sure if you would actually let me eat or just taunt me with the food."

The Dark Lord rolled his eyes. "I only do things like that to prisoners."

"And I'm not a prisoner?" Harry asked skeptically.

"Not really," Voldemort said, still watching Harry. "You're just an unwilling permanent guest, for now."

"Isn't that the same thing?" Harry frowned.

"Not in this case," Voldemort told him, sitting back in his chair. "Unless you'd prefer to stay in the dungeons? I assure you, they are not a pleasant place to be." Harry shook his head hastily. "Good, then. Eat as much as you want." And the Dark Lord went back to his own food. Harry ate at a more leisurely pace after that, the silence a little more comfortable between them. Soon that comfortable silence started getting a bit strained again. Voldemort's eyes had gotten darker, as if he was thinking about something he didn't like, judging by the pain shooting through Harry's head. Harry didn't comment or ask what was going through his mind, even when Voldemort turned his gaze back to Harry, watching him with eyes that were steadily getting redder.

"Why?" Voldemort practically growled at him.

Harry looked at him warily, swallowing his mouthful of food. "Why what?"

"Why did you let those brats touch you?"

"What?" Harry asked, not entirely sure what he was talking about.

"I saw it all, you know," Voldemort hissed. "All those TRYSTS of yours. I paid close attention to when you let those others touch you, and to who those others were."

Harry scowled. "Well, you shouldn't have! That was all private!" Harry shouted.

"Seamus Finnegan, Colin Creevey. Draco Malfoy, oh, am I going to torture him! And that Seer! Lee Jordan and those WEASLEYS!" the Dark Lord bellowed. "You've really been around, haven't you!?"

"It's none of your business what I do with whomever I choose to do it with, when I choose to do it!" Harry yelled, inwardly fretting what the Dark Lord would do with those names.

"You are my business!" Voldemort stood, slamming his hands on the table, knocking his chair over and knocking quite a few things off the table. Harry flinched, wincing at the pain shooting through his scar.

"Since when?!" Harry asked, also standing.

Voldemort grabbed the front of Harry's shirt and yanked him forward, putting the fingers of his other hand to Harry's scar. "Since this!"

Harry hissed in pain and tried to tug himself free. "What gives you the right to have any say in how I live my life?! Because I've had enough of it! You've been fucking up my life since before I can remember! Why can't you just leave me alone?!" He shoved the Dark Lord backward as hard as he could. He heard the fabric of his t-shirt tearing as Voldemort stumbled away, his shirt collar tearing a little along the seams, but he ignored it.

The Dark Lord's eyes went a bright crimson, and he was seething with anger (and just a tiny amount of desire - he refused to admit to the jealousy), his anger was so potent that the pain in Harry's head was almost blinding. Harry and Voldemort stood and stared at each other for a tense moment, both of them panting from the spike of adrenaline that went through them in anticipation of a fight. Harry didn't have anything that he could have used as a weapon, except the cutlery, but he doubted that would go over well against a wand-armed Dark Lord. So, he decided he might as well try to make a break for it, and he started lobbing random things from the table at Voldemort (who looked almost surprised to get hit in the head with muffins), as Harry started walking backwards toward the door that they had first come in through.

Voldemort angrily swiped his wand, and everything on the table was sent careening onto the floor on the opposite side of the table from Harry - he greatly enjoyed the sound of expensive china shattering. With another flick of his wand, the door slammed shut and locked just as Harry got to it. Harry growled and slammed his fists against the door, before turning back to face Voldemort. He flinched back when he found the Dark Lord inches away from him. (How did he get so close so fast?) Voldemort slammed Harry against the door, with what Harry could only describe as intense lust in his eyes. He stabbed his wand against Harry's throat, his magic super heating the tip in his fury, burning Harry's skin. But Harry didn't care, he slapped the arm and wand away from him, making Voldemort lose his grip on his wand and drop it, and he followed it up with a right hook to the Dark Lord's jaw. The Dark Lord Voldemort stumbled backward in mild surprise; because he was a proud wizard and he couldn't believe he was getting into a fist fight with a boy who was half his size, again. He saw red and lunged forward, simultaneously grabbing Harry's right arm in a bruising grip and burying the knuckles of his own right hand into Harry's solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him. He then swung Harry around by his arm and slammed him onto the table with a loud crash. Harry grunted, pain going through his spine from being slammed against the hard wood, his head bouncing against the hard surface from the force.

He lay there limp and dazed for a few moments, long enough for Voldemort to pin him to the table and slam his mouth to Harry's, bestowing Harry with an angry and violently passionate kiss. Voldemort's tongue forced its way into Harry's mouth for the second time that day, causing a small moan to come out of a startled Harry. Teeth bit into Harry's lips and tongue, a dominant tongue licking up the blood and a warm mouth sucking on the wounds.

Voldemort pulled away, panting. "The sheer audacity you have to question me, to argue with me? Shout at me, to HIT me?! You should count yourself lucky, because anyone else would be dead." With that, he bit harshly into Harry's lower lip, making Harry whimper, then he trailed bloody kisses and nips down Harry's jaw, to his neck, where he bit, sucked and gnawed to leave a large, dark purple mark. Staking his claim.

Harry whimpered again, the fuzziness from hitting his head so hard finally wearing off. "Get off me," he muttered, trying to yank his arms free from the Dark Lord's grip. Voldemort whispered a spell and released Harry's arms, but when Harry tried to move them, he found them magically stuck to the table.

"You're mine," the Dark Lord said huskily, his hands gripping Harry's stretched and torn shirt. With a vicious tug, he ripped the t-shirt open, making Harry gasp and struggle harder to get free. Voldemort went to kiss the newly exposed flesh but stopped when he got a good look. His breath hitched and, immediately, a great deal of the Dark Lord's lust was replaced by rage, when he saw Harry's chest and sides were covered in vivid scars, and he'd wager his back was just as bad - if not worse. "Who did this?" he hissed softly.

"What?" Harry asked confusedly, then glanced down to see what he was staring at. Harry groaned and let his head thump back onto the table. "There're supposed to be glamours covering those!"

"There are wards around this castle that nullify stealth and disguise spells and potions, including glamours. Now, who did this!? Your relatives, give me their names!" Voldemort asked in a dangerous tone. He recognized those scars, he'd seen scars like them before, he even had a few like them before, until he used magic to get rid of them. They were the tell tale scars of abuse, severe and violent abuse; Harry had been whipped, with what he assumed was a belt, buckle side down; Harry had been cut and scratched and burned and heaven only knew what else.

Harry stayed quiet and avoided Voldemort's gaze. "It's none of your concern."

"It is my concern," Voldemort hissed. "We've been over this, you are mine. Whoever did this needs to be punished, to learn their place!"

Harry turned to glare at him. "I really wish you would stop referring to me like I'm some kind of object! I don't belong to anyone, least of all, YOU!" He started struggling to get up again, but his arms were still stuck to the table, so all he could do was wriggle and kick his legs. Unfortunately, he was't in the right position to kick the Dark Lord like last time; this time, Voldemort was firmly between his legs. And there was something poking him in the hip, and he knew it wasn't his wand. 'Voldemort is turned on by violence; really should have seen that one coming,' Harry thought.

The Dark Lord chuckled with a sadistic mirth. "Kick and scream all you want, it won't change anything. And you're avoiding the question!"

"You really think I'm going to tell you anything?"

"These scars are obviously from abuse, I've seen scars like them before. It wouldn't take much to find out where you live during the summer. I already know you live in Surrey somewhere," Voldemort threatened. Harry's glare turned icy and he managed to turn his leg just enough to ram his knee into the Dark Lord's side. Said Dark Lord shouted in startled pain, and grabbed Harry's legs, pushing them open and away from his sides. He took the opportunity to grind his hips against Harry's groin, causing the teenager to gasp and jerk. The jerking motion made Harry's hips press upwards against the Dark Lord, who let out a growling moan as his cock twitched. "Perhaps, we should save this discussion for later," he said, looking at Harry with a predatory glint in his eye. He leaned in and ran his tongue over one of Harry's nipples, lapping at the pert pink nub. Harry couldn't hold in the whimper...

Then there was a knock at the door.

Voldemort growled and ignored it, angrily biting the nub he had just been tasting, making Harry shout in surprise and pain (and he was ashamed to say it was in pleasure as well).

There was another, more urgent knock.

"WHAT?!" Voldemort shouted furiously over his shoulder, in the direction of the door. His arousal deflated in his annoyance.

A gruff voice called from the other side of the door. "My lord, I apologize for interrupting, but I need to speak with you."

The horny older wizard growled louder, standing up straight and raising his hand to summon his wand from across the room. When the wand went soaring back into its master's hand, Harry was filled with disappointment, annoyance and clear disdain, knowing now that Voldemort had the situation, and him, under his control the whole time! The Dark Lord adjusted his appearance and flicked his wand to unlock and open the door, leaving Harry stuck to the table for now.

"What do you want, Greyback, that is so important that you interrupt me at meal time?" Voldemort intoned, his wand hand twitching with his effort to control his desire to send the _Cruciatus Curse _at the damned cock-blocking werewolf.

"We have a couple intruders, my Lord," Greyback answered, his hulking figure stepping into the room and surveying the mess and Harry with a slight smirk on his face.

"Why bother me with this? Just kill them!" Voldemort snarled.

"I would, my Lord, but I was under the impression that you wanted to keep this little minx of yours happy." Fenrir Greyback flashed a predatory grin at Harry.

"Watch yourself, Greyback," Voldemort warned, not liking the look on Fenrir's face one bit. "Who are these intruders?" Fenrir grinned and turned back to the door, disappearing beyond it. He returned a moment later, dragging two bound bodies behind him by thick ropes. He dropped the squirming but silenced captives at the Dark Lord's feet. Voldemort raised his eyebrow as he looked down at the prisoners. "How exactly did they manage to find this place so quickly? How did they find it at all?!" he asked the werewolf, who was pouting a little in shame.

"I apologize, my Lord, I believe they followed me and my pack, when we returned after the raid last ni-," Greyback didn't get to finish, as he was on the floor under the _Cruciatus Curse_, gritting his teeth and forcing himself not to utter a sound.

Harry lifted his head up as far as he could, to see who it was tied up on the floor. He could see the bodies wriggling in their bonds, but not their faces. He forced himself up further, putting his shoulders in a very uncomfortable position; one wrong move and he would dislocate them. When he saw the shaggy, dark hair on one of them, and noticing the tattered state of the clothes of the other, he gasped in dread. "Siri?! Remmy?!" The squirming bodies started thrashing harder at the sound of his voice. With a flick of the Dark Lord's wand, Fenrir was released from the curse and Harry was released from his position on the table. Fenrir stood shakily and Harry slid off the table to the floor that was covered in broken glass and china. He ignored the sharp debris cutting into his hands and knees in favor of crawling over to the two bound figures, who were desperately fighting against their restraints, their mouths moving but no sound escaped them. He reached Sirius first, who was looking more and more angry by the second, as he took in the sight of Harry's torn shirt, bruised abdomen, and cut and bruised wrists. He also saw the scars that littered Harry's body, his eyes darkening with anger, probably convinced they were all made by Voldemort somehow.

Remus watched Harry from the other side of Sirius, his nose sniffing and taking in the scent of pain, anger and desire rolling off of Harry and the Dark Lord. He wasn't entirely sure what to make of the situation.

Voldemort squatted on the other side of the two captives, watching Harry's face. "Well, isn't this a fortunate turn of events?" he said, glancing at the thrashing figures. "Will you answer that question you were avoiding, Harry, or should I torture the information out of these two? I'm sure they know where you spend your summers." Harry looked up sharply at him, then back down to Sirius and Remus. "What will it be? Will you protect these two, or will you protect your abusers?" Sirius and Remus stilled, listening to the Dark Lord talk, and wondering what he meant. Abusers?

Harry bit his lip, glaring at Voldemort, weighing his options. He knew the man would torture his godfathers and possibly kill them, and there was nothing Harry could do to stop him, except to tell him about the Dursleys. But then if he told him about his relatives, he would go torture and kill them. His blood relatives or his family by love, the people who actually care about him? It was a hard decision, but one that he could make.

He stayed silent for a few moments, watching Sirius and Remus look back at him. "My mother's sister, Petunia, and her husband, Vernon Dursley, and their son, Dudley," Harry answered solemnly, his shoulders slumping in defeat and tears building in his eyes. Sirius and Remus were both obviously feeling angry and ashamed. Their quest to find and rescue Harry had been partially successful, but in their efforts they'd forced him to sell out his family to save their sorry hides.

"Address?" Voldemort prompted.

"Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey."

Voldemort smiled sadistically, reaching a long fingered hand to comb through Harry's messy, silky, black locks. "Good boy."

* * *

**=Little Whinging, Surrey. A moment later.-**

The house of Number 4 trembled as though from a mild earthquake, when the powerful wards fell as the protection of blood was broken. The only two people currently in the house shrieked and shouted in surprise; the wife dropping the dish she had been drying, shattering it on the floor; the husband dropping his car keys and briefcase in the hall as he was on his way out to his car to go back to work after lunch. Both of them had only one thought as the trembling stopped. 'The Freak!'

**TBC**


	7. Chapter 7: Nurture

**There are some graphic depictions of blood, gore and some minor torture in this chapter. Fair warning!**

Sorry this took so long, I've been having some computer trouble.

* * *

"Speech."

'Thoughts.'

"~Parseltongue.~"

_Spells and potions._

**+Chapter 7: Nurture+**

**-Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Friday 1 March 1996. Headmaster's office. 12:25 p.m.-**

Headmaster Dumbledore was startled out of his reverie and staring contest with the correspondence he should have been tending to, by a loud whistling sound coming from one of his own inventions. It was the one he'd made to monitor the wards around Harry's home at Privet Drive. The Headmaster's face paled when he saw the instrument billow red smoke, alerting him that the wards had been broken.

His first thought was that Harry must have divulged the address to Voldemort under torture or blackmail. The only question was: Why did Voldemort want access to Number 4 Privet Drive if he already had Harry?

His next thought had him rushing to his fireplace, making Floo calls and sending out Fawkes and numerous _Patroni_, calling an emergency Order meeting.

* * *

**-Down in the Great Hall. Same moment.-**

Lunch was coming to an end, but the Great Hall was still fairly full. The room was uncharacteristically quiet.

The Wizarding World knew now that Voldemort was indeed back, and that Harry had been telling the truth the whole time. They knew that Harry had been at the Ministry last night and had tried to fight against Voldemort himself with a bunch of his classmates, because there weren't any fully trained adults who would listen to him. The Daily Prophet that morning was full of retraction articles, and apologies towards Harry and Dumbledore. There was even an article from Rita Skeeter praising Harry's abilities and for his teaching skills in teaching his friends how to defend themselves well enough to stand up against a crowd of Death Eaters and survive - Hermione had made sure that insufferable beetle knew exactly what Harry had done to try and protect the Wizarding World, even if that Wizarding World had turned its back on him. There was talk of impeaching Cornelius Fudge and firing Dolores Umbridge, even possible prison time for both of them.

The whole school knew by now what had happened at the Ministry and what happened to Harry and Luna. The Gryffindor table was silent without it's prince, the Ravenclaw table was quiet with the loss of its eccentric entity, Hufflepuff was also subdued, even the Slytherin table was quiet, though it was a tense silence. Draco Malfoy hadn't even made any taunts, especially after his father had come to the school that morning and had tried to take him home, but after a muted argument, Malfoy Senior had left with a scowl on his face and without his son.

As for the few students who had been at the Ministry the night before, the teachers had allowed them to go to class that day - even though Defense Against the Dark Arts was cancelled, as well as Potions, until Professor Snape could return - in hopes that it would take their minds off of everything. But it was for naught. Hermione wasn't even bothering with her schoolwork that day, she just kept sighing in class and breaking down into silent sobs, because there was nothing she could think of to do, to help her friend. There was nothing to research, no puzzles to solve, nowhere to even start looking. She felt useless! Ron didn't know how to comfort her, since he was doing his best just to keep himself from crying as well. Ginny was beside herself, her eyes hadn't dried once since she woke up, but she managed to keep her sobbing to a minimum. Neville was just as obviously depressed, he just sat and stared at nothing. Seamus and the Twins weren't even bothering to try to make jokes about anything. At the moment, Fred was just pushing his food around his plate without eating any of it, George had his hands in his lap, he hadn't even bothered to fix himself a plate for lunch. Seamus had been slowly chewing the same mouthful of food all through lunch.

Suddenly, Hermione slammed her cutlery down onto the table and stood up. Any sound there might have been in the Great Hall went silent, and all attention turned to the angry bushy-haired muggleborn.

"'Mione?" Ron asked, looking at her warily.

"I'm going to see the Headmaster," she said, grabbing up her bag. "There has to be something more we can do!" With that, there was scrambling from several Gryffindors to stand and follow her. Hermione turned to see that everyone who had been with her last night had stood up, so did more than half of Gryffindor, including the Quidditch team and several underclassmen. "No, you lot stay here. If there's anything we can do, I'll make sure you know and that the Headmaster knows you've volunteered your assistance," she told them all. Almost all of them pouted and sat down again, except for the four Weasleys and Neville.

"You're not going anywhere without us!" Ginny said stubbornly and preceded Hermione out of the Great Hall. Hermione sighed and gave a wry smile to the others, then turned and followed the fiery redhead.

* * *

When they arrived at the Headmaster's office, they found the gargoyle had already moved aside, so they went up the stairs and knocked on the door. The door was opened immediately by a confused looking Tonks.

"What are you lot doing here?" she asked.

"We wanted to talk to the Headmaster," Hermione answered.

"There's an Order meeting starting in a few minutes, you'll have to wait," Tonks told them apologetically.

"No, let them in, Nymphadora. We have time until the others arrive," said Dumbledore's voice. Tonks opened the door and let the six of them in. Hermione walked straight up to the Headmaster. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Sir, I know you think we're all too young to do anything to help, but I have to insist that you reconsider that judgement," Hermione told him boldly. "If there's anything we can do to help, even if we might get hurt, then please let us. That goes for all of us, even most of the other Gryffindor students. They all wanted to come up here and demand to help."

"Well, I don't know what you can do to help, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, frowning. "I don't even know what I can do to help." He gestured to the smoking instrument that he'd put on his desk in front of him. "We've run across a situation, it seems. The wards around Harry's home on Privet Drive have fallen. The Dursleys are completely defenseless, and the only way this could have happened, is if the blood protection between Harry and his relatives was betrayed or revoked somehow. I would assume that Harry has been forced into divulging his family's whereabouts. But I have no idea why Voldemort would want to hurt them, now that he has Harry. Other than possibly using them as leverage to control Harry."

"I don't think that's it," Hermione said thoughtfully.

"Oh, and why is that?" Dumbledore asked, intrigued.

"Something Luna said," Hermione answered, turning to look at Ron and the others. "On the train home for the winter holidays. Harry had woken up from a nightmare after he'd fallen sleep in the compartment. She said Harry's dreams had changed because someone was changing his mind. I don't think she meant Harry was the one changing his mind, but Voldemort. Voldemort was changing his mind, has changed his mind about something. He did say he wasn't going to kill Harry, but he must still have plans that involve Harry, or he wouldn't have taken him."

"Voldemort has changed his mind," Dumbledore muttered to himself. He directed his attention back to Hermione. "I don't suppose you have any idea what he's changed his mind about and why he might need to know the location of Harry's home and family?"

"I have an idea... but it's far-fetched," Hermione admitted.

"Doesn't matter how far-fetched it might seem, an idea could be all we need to figure this out." By now all the Order members that had been alerted had arrived, except a certain werewolf and animagus that no one has noticed the absense of, yet.

"Well...," Hermione hesitated, a slight blush coming up on her cheeks. "Ron and Neville noticed something that I think Harry was trying to hide, but I don't think he realizes just how close of attention we all give him. I think Harry's still not used to having friends who worry about him..."

"What Hermione is beating around the bush about," Ron started, taking a leaf from Hermione's book, when she finishes speaking for him every time he rambles on. "Is that Harry's nightmares about Voldemort have changed from nightmares...," Ron said, grimacing. "To wet dreams. And if his nightmares are any clue, the dreams weren't all coming from Harry." Dumbledore sat there, speechless, his blue eyes wide and twinkling.

"Wait," Neville said, scrunching up his face. "When did Harry's dreams change, exactly?"

"The day we left for winter holidays," Hermione answered. "As far as we know."

"You mean, the day right after those new potions were splattered across the papers?" Neville asked, his Pureblood upbringing pointing out the obvious to him.

Everyone in the room gaped, jaws almost hitting the floor as realization dawned on them. Dumbledore was looking almost gob-smacked, which was an interesting expression on the wizened old man.

"Ew!" Ron said. "Snake Breath wants to get Harry up the duff?!" Hermione suddenly took on a calculating expression, while Dumbledore looked to be puzzling over something as well.

Dumbledore was vividly remembering his brief encounter with Tom Riddle at the Ministry last night.

_"Tom, don't do this," Dumbledore implored. _

_"Do what, Albus?" Voldemort taunted. He gave the Headmaster a lazy shrug. "I don't plan on killing him any time soon, I promise. I still need him!" The Dark Lord pressed a mocking kiss to Harry's forehead and throwing a wink at the aging wizard._

"Oh, my gods, that is what he's after," Dumbledore muttered to himself. "The Potter family has a lot of power, both politically and magically, and Harry is the sole heir to it all. Voldemort hasn't been able to find a way to make himself truly immortal, so he wants an heir that would likely be more powerful than even himself."

"That still doesn't explain what he wants with Harry's Muggle family," Tonks pointed out.

"Well, if Harry were to die before he could give birth, everything would go to next of kin, which is the Dursleys," Dumbledore said. "Though, I'm not sure that's it..."

"I don't think that's it," Fred chimed in, gaining everyone's attention. George looked at his brother with a look that was asking him what the hell he was doing, a new expression on one of the Weasley twins.

"Mister Weasley?" Dumbledore prompted.

Fred glanced at his brother, shrugging his shoulder. "You-Know-Who is a possessive sort of person, isn't he?" he asked, turning back to Dumbledore, who nodded. "And a sort of sadistic kind of possessive?" Another affirmative nod. "Well, that means he wouldn't want someone else to touch something that he thinks is his, right? Especially if that someone hurt that something of his?"

"What are you getting at?" Molly Weasley asked her twin sons.

George continued the deduction. "Well, if You-Know-Who is over there feeling Harry up, he's bound to notice a few things amiss."

"What do you mean?" Dumbledore asked.

"Oh!" Hermione gasped. "His scars!"

The Twins turned incredulous eyes on her. "How did you know about those?" they asked in unison.

Hermione snorted. "Who do you think helped him find the glamour charms to hide them?"

"What scars!" Dumbledore asked in a raised voice, rising from his seat.

The students in the room turned to the Headmaster with wide, guilty eyes - like they'd been caught smuggling firewhiskey into the dormitory.

"Harry's relatives aren't exactly the kindest or gentlest Muggles you'll ever meet," Ron said, by way of answering. "Especially that uncle of his," he added through gritted teeth.

"Wait, how do you know about that?" Fred asked his brother. "We had to basically pry it out of him!"

"How do you know about it?" Ron challenged, even though he knew the answer. He just wanted to see his twin brothers blush, which they did and then tried to avoid his gaze.

"Harry doesn't always notice right away when the glamours wear off," Neville answered, making everyone turn to him. "Especially in the morning when he's barely awake and headed for the shower."

"And he's told me about some of the abuse," Ron said and shrugged at his brothers, who were staring at him with a small amount of jealousy that Harry had confided in him first and not them. "I'm his best friend!"

"Are you all telling me that those Muggles beat him?!" Molly asked, her voice rising to a shriek and her face paling. "Why didn't he ever tell anyone?!"

"He's ashamed of it," Hermione answered. "I tried to tell him that he has nothing to be ashamed of, that his relatives are the ones who should be ashamed, but he wouldn't listen. He told Ron and I not to tell anyone about it, so we didn't."

Dumbledore sat back down, sighing wearily. "If I had known, I would have removed him from that environment."

Molly choked on a sob. "Is that why you were always so adamant that we invite him to stay for the summer?" she asked Ron.

Ron nodded. "And why I always asked you if we could send him food. They didn't feed him either. Why do you think he's so skinny and short?"

"Because they starved him and locked him in a cupboard all the time," Hermione added bitterly, her eyes glistening with tears. She decided she might as well tell them everything, if there was a chance it would help. "It stunted his growth. Then they also made him do all the cooking and cleaning and then beat him within an inch of his life and locked him in his room. Everyday. When he cooked, his aunt would watch him to make sure he didn't steal any food. Whenever he did something they thought was wrong or not quite right, they locked him in the cupboard under the stairs, sometime for days, depending on the infraction."

Molly collapsed to her knees and started sobbing heavily, she couldn't believe anyone would do that to any child, let alone family. That someone did that to a boy she thought of as her own son without her noticing, she felt guilty. Her husband was absently rubbing her shoulders to comfort her, even though he looked lost in his own horrified thoughts.

"How could I not have known?" Dumbledore whispered to himself and sighed again, putting his head in his hands. "It's my fault for putting him there in the first place." He looked up again, allowing everyone to notice that he was also fighting back tears. Fawkes flew over from his perch to land on the Headmaster's shoulder, nipping at his beard to try and comfort him. "So, that's why Voldemort wants his family - his relatives; they don't deserve to be called family. It seems that he and Harry have more in common than I thought."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

Dumbledore took a breath and started to explain, deciding he should share it with the rest of them. Should explain WHY Voldemort was doing what he was doing, what drove him to fight this war. Tell them why they had to fight him in the first place. They knew that they didn't agree with Voldemort's ideals, but they didn't know why they were his ideals to begin with. "Voldemort - Tom Riddle - when he was a child, he lived in an orphanage. If that wasn't bad enough, it was war time for both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. The orphanage was so underfunded, and the Muggle caretakers so greedy, there weren't enough funds to feed and cloth all of the children. They were left to fight amongst themselves for food and clothes. Also, the Muggle children - even the caretakers - were afraid of Tom, for his abilities. They saw him as a freak, and they treated him like one. The children bullied him, the caretakers beat him. They locked him up and refused to feed him, telling him that he didn't deserve to eat their food. I suppose it was a determining factor in Tom's development, what drove him to his ambitions, his desires to possess anything he needed or anything he wanted. Having to fight for what he needed at such a young age or having to go without, how could one expect him to turn out any other way? I should have taken him away from there, but I didn't. This was before I fought Grindelwald. I was only a Transfiguration teacher at the time, I had almost no pull in the Wizengamot or the Ministry. There wasn't anything I could do, short of adopting him myself. Then, Tom came to Hogwarts - I went and retrieved him myself - where he learned about what he truly was, about his powers and abilities, about his ancestry. He became convinced he was better than others, because he was more than the Muggle children were and he was so much more powerful than his magical classmates. And he still is, he is one of the most magically powerful wizards in the world, as well as one of the most knowledgeable. But he made friends with the wrong people - if you could call them friends, certain Pureblooded Slytherins and a few Ravenclaws. Back then they were even more pompous than they are now. He decided that the Purebloods were right, they were better than Muggleborns and Halfbloods, ignoring the fact that he himself was a Halfblood. He still does, he refuses to acknowledge his Muggle heritage. Refuses his real name; his mother named him after his Muggle father. I can't help but think that things might be different, if he'd been able to grow up in a loving home." Dumbledore paused, observing the silent audience.

"Never thought I'd see the day when I'd feel a little sorry for You-Know-Who," Neville muttered to himself.

"Now, I've made the same mistake with Harry, only this time it's worse, because I PUT him there. I'm amazed Harry has turned out so differently, that he is so loving and forgiving after what he's been through," Dumbledore said.

Hermione stared at the Headmaster, amazed to see the usually jovial and happy man be so absorbed in self-loathing. He blamed himself for everything that was happening, even though it really wasn't his fault at all. "Nature versus nurture, Headmaster. There's no way anyone can know how a child will turn out. Even the most loved children can grow up thinking less of themselves." Here she gave a look to Neville and then to Ron. "Then there are children like Harry, who didn't know love for longer than he could remember, and still turned out to have a heart bigger than any other's." She smiled a little as she remembered her best friend. "Tom Riddle and Harry Potter, two people who grew up in a similar way, but turned out to be polar opposites."

Dumbledore gave Hermione a sad smile. "You're right-" He was cut off by a whistling sound, he turned to one of his other instruments. "Death Eaters have arrived in Little Whinging." He stood up and surveyed his Order of the Phoenix. "I must say before we go, that if any of you feel you don't want to defend the lives of these Muggles, then I won't hold it against you, if you should choose to stay behind."

"Don't be silly, Albus!" Molly said, wiping her eyes. "If there is any way we can find Harry or Luna, it's by capturing a Death Eater." There was a smattering of cheers and agreements.

"Very well," Dumbledore said, looking around at them all. "Where are Sirius and Remus? I know I sent _Patroni_ to them."

The others looked around, searching for the two absentees. "You don't think something's happened to them, do you?" Tonks asked.

"They are closer to Harry than the rest of us," Molly put in, a worried tremor in her voice.

"All the more reason to go to Little Whinging, right now!" Dumbledore said, then turned to McGonagall. "Minerva, hold down the fort." McGonagall nodded her agreement, as the Headmaster lowered the wards around his office and the members of the Order of the Phoenix apparated out of the office and straight to Number 4 Privet Drive.

Only the students and McGonagall were left standing in the room.

"Well, now," Minerva said, turning to her students. "I believe we all have classes to be in. Hurry up now, we're thirty minutes late! I'd like to make sure your schoolmates haven't destroyed my classroom!" And she ushered them all out of the room. The students left, some grumbling about being left out again.

* * *

**-Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. A moment later.-**

Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix arrived in time to see carnage. In the few minutes since the Death Eaters arrived, they'd managed to destroy several houses, many of which were on fire. Number 4 still stood, looking almost untouched, but for the front door that had been blown off it's hinges. There was screaming, as the more insane Death Eaters did what they did best; tortured and killed Muggles. There were already several bodies in the streets, in broad daylight.

The fighting between the Light and the Dark started as soon as the Light Order arrived, racing to protect and save the lives of innocent Muggles.

But what they didn't know, was that most of these Muggles were far from innocent. After Harry had broken the blood protection wards by giving up the location, the Dark Lord had peeked into Harry's mind (more like forced his way in to get the details), and found that Harry's relatives were not the only ones who had treated the magical child like a freak, the whole neighborhood had. They'd seen the abuse and neglect and had ignored it. The adults had warned their children away from the 'Potter brat', some had even encouraged their children to bully him or turned a blind eye when their children cornered the small boy. The only person in that neighborhood who'd treated Harry like a human being was the Squib, Arabella Figg, whom the Dark Lord had ordered his Death Eaters to leave untouched.

The Dark Lord's orders were relatively simple; destroy the neighborhood but don't kill them all, no children, no prisoners; leave Arabella Figg and her home unharmed, and save the Dursleys for him. That was it.

Voldemort was currently standing in the sitting room of Number 4, smirking at the Muggles. Dudley was trying to hide behind his mother, whom was trying to shield her fat lump of son, whilst cowering on the sofa, after the Dark Lord had ordered them to sit. Vernon, on the other hand, hadn't taken lightly to being ordered around in his own home, and was now screaming and twitching on the floor. He'd dared to raise his voice and even his fist to the Darkest Lord of all time and was facing the very painful consequences of it. He'd been under the _Cruciatus Curse _for more than three minutes now.

After another thirty seconds, he lifted the curse, then quickly cast _Incarcerous_ on the walrus of a man. He felt it as soon as the Order arrived, passing through the wards that he'd put up to alert him to the arrival of the Order or any Ministry Aurors. He turned to Petunia Dursley and her son and tied them up as well, then levitated them all into a neat pile on the floor, cruelly making sure Petunia was on the bottom. When he heard hurried footsteps rushing through the house, he looked up to the main entrance of the room to see Albus Dumbledore rush in with his wand ready and a grim but determined expression on his face. The two wizards raised their wands and kept them trained on their opponent.

"Albus, how lovely of you to join me," Voldemort mocked, dropping a portkey onto the pile of Dursleys, whisking them away to his dungeons before the old man could stop him.

Dumbledore sighed wearily. "Tom, you have to stop this! Let them go, let them all go! Let Harry go! I'm begging you!"

"Oh, the Great Albus Dumbledore, reduced to begging already?" Voldemort asked, smirking. "I haven't even done anything, yet. Not really. Why should I let them go? These Muggles aren't worth saving, I promise you. You would agree, if you knew. And, as for Harry, I'm never letting him go. Ever. And there's nothing you could do or say to change my mind. These... creatures you call Harry's family, do you know what they've done? Those Muggles outside, the rest of this sickeningly boring Muggle neighborhood, do you know what they've all done? Or, in some cases, not done?"

"I know," Dumbledore croaked out, frowning. "I've only just learned what Harry's relatives have done to him. His friends decided it would be best to divulge that particular secret of Harry's, in hopes it would help us to understand why you came here. I know now, that I have made the same mistake again with Harry that I made with you. I let you both suffer, when you shouldn't have had to experience something so horrible."

"It's a little late for self-pity and half-arsed apologies, Dumbledore," Voldemort ground out.

"What do you want with Harry, Tom?" Dumbledore asked. "I have to ask, why are you keeping him alive? I would think you were still of the mind to kill him, because of the prophecy. What am I missing, Tom?"

Voldemort snorted. "I heard the whole prophecy months ago, old man. The perks of having followers in the Ministry. It was easy to get into the Department of Mysteries to hear it. As far as I'm concerned, that prophecy fulfilled itself that very night I went after Harry in his crib. As for what I have planned for him now? I think I'll let you work that one out yourself." Voldemort raised his wand higher, intending to cast a spell to distract Dumbledore long enough for him to get out of the house, and out of the anti-apparition wards he could feel Dumbledore had put around the house.

"Yes, Harry's friends had a good idea about what you wanted Harry for," Albus said, trying to stall for more time. "His dorm mates have noticed a few changes in his... sleep patterns. And his best friend, Hermione, she's a brilliant one; she's the one who figured it all out in the end. You want Harry to bear you an heir. But my question is, what will you do with him after he's given you an heir?"

"Oh, I want more than one, Albus," Voldemort smiled darkly, his eyes going a reddish orange with lust, as he thought of Harry and that delectable body of his, just waiting for him to ravish it. "I'm not just going to have Harry bear me an heir and then be done with him, oh no, I'm going to be keeping him."

"Why?" Dumbledore asked, perplexed.

"There are many reasons," the Dark Lord started, inching around to the patio door that lead into the back yard. "I'm sure you've already worked them all out. There is one reason, however, that I need to ask: did you know?" he asked, pausing in his movement.

"Did I know what?"

"What Harry is?" Voldemort hissed, continuing his movement towards the glass patio door. "Did you know about what I'd left behind in his scar?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I had a hunch. I hadn't confirmed it, though. I'd only found out about your horcruxes after Harry presented your destroyed diary to me in his second year. Adding to that the knowledge of the pain he experiences whenever you're near, I wondered."

"Well, it's confirmed now," Voldemort gritted out, deciding that he would clarify a few things with the old man, since they were there. "So, now you know, Harry will NEVER be leaving my side. He will stay with me, protected and cared for, I'll even make sure he continues his education from the safety of my home. An even more thorough education than what he would receive at Hogwarts. I'll give him what he craves the most; a real family. Hopefully, one day I'll get him to bond himself to me; to make him my consort. The work's already half done, anyway." Voldemort scoffed. "That soul piece that's inside of him? Harry's own soul is so pure and... loving, that it has accepted and merged with the shard of mine. There's no reversing it." He paused again, debating for a moment. "Don't fret, you may yet see him again. I doubt it'll happen anytime soon, but eventually I'll be able to trust him with a little more freedom. It'll be even longer before I can trust others with Harry's freedom." He raised his wand to his throat and cast a _Sonorus_. "My Death Eaters, retreat." Silently casting the counter spell, he spoke to Dumbledore once more. "I'd best be going now. I have a few Muggles to punish and a stubborn Gryffindor to break in. Oh, and don't worry too much about Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. They'll be staying with me as well." Dumbledore raised his wand higher and opened his mouth, no doubt to cast the first spell to start the duel he was expecting to happen between the two of them. But, unfortunately for him, Voldemort had other plans. He'd anticipated Dumbledore's arrival and added an extra fail safe, and so, he cast the silent spell that activated the invisible array he'd put on the floor in the entrance that Dumbledore was now standing in. A semi-opaque white sphere appeared around Dumbledore, imprisoning the old man inside it; inhibiting and feeding off of his magic. It was a powerful Chinese containment sphere; a dark spell that he'd learned about in his travels, that was originally designed to contain demons and drain the magic out of them to be repurposed as the caster saw fit. Needless to say, that if it were to be used on a wizard, said wizard would die eventually from magic deficiency, if they weren't freed in time. Even if they were freed in time, it would still leave the wizard severely weakened for a while.

Once the insufferable old man was contained, the Dark Lord rushed out the door and past the wards. 'That ought to keep him busy for a while,' he thought, with a sadistic grin on his face. He cast a quick spell to set the house on fire, and then apparated back to his castle.

Once the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters had apparated away, Little Whinging was left in a state of shock and chaos; houses burning, people screaming and crying, blood running through the streets, bodies of Muggles, Death Eaters and Order members alike all over the place. The sirens of Muggle emergency vehicles filled the air, along with the cracks of apparition signaling the arrival of Aurors. The surviving Order members were too shocked to know what to make of it all. They hadn't managed to capture any Death Eaters alive, and Dumbledore seemed to be stuck in a bubble they couldn't break through.

* * *

**-Slytherin Castle, somewhere in Ireland. Same day.-**

Lord Voldemort apparated directly into the dining room where he'd left Harry (chained by the ankle to the large, heavy, wooden table), after healing his newest injuries, repairing the boy's shirt and ordering the house elves to clean up the mess. The boy was sitting in his chair, scowling at the strawberry he'd been mutilating on his plate. He looked up when he felt the air displacement and heard the tell tale pop of apparition.

"Where have you taken Remus and Sirius?" Harry demanded of the Dark Lord, not even bothering with a greeting of any kind.

"They're in the dungeons for the time being," Voldemort answered easily. "I will provide them with better accommodations once I've reached a suitable agreement with them." He strode over to Harry, vanishing the chain and shackle with a wave of his hand. He pulled Harry's chair out, urging him to stand. "Speaking of the dungeons. I have something to show you."

Harry stood up, warily eyeing Voldemort. "Where did you go?" he asked in a small voice, dreading that he already knew the answer.

Voldemort smirked. "Little Whinging." He wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders and steered him towards the door and out into the corridor.

"Do I want to know what you did while you were there?" Harry asked softly.

"Probably not, but you will know anyway," Voldemort answered, strolling leisurely through the halls with Harry, making the long walk to the entrance of the dungeons. "Then again, you may be pleased to know that most of that foul little muggle suburb is no longer standing." Harry gasped. "And most of the people who hurt you are now dead. Not to worry, I didn't allow my Death Eaters to harm any children, even though they were the ones who did the most damage, aside from your uncle. And Mrs. Arabella Figg is completely unharmed."

Harry seemed to let out a small sigh of relief for the few who had survived the massacre. Then Harry remembered where Voldemort was leading him. "What is it that you want to show me?" Harry asked, stopping and looking up at Voldemort with apprehension. "Please don't make me watch you hurt anyone." Voldemort's eyes turned a dark red, almost maroon color; as though he were on the verge of getting angry. He didn't answer, he simply reached and clasped a hand around Harry's upper arm and started pulling him along. Harry bit his lip, torn between wanting to cry and wanting to scream at the Dark Lord.

A few tense and silent minutes later, they reached an unassuming door. It was old; made of a faded dark wood and black iron bands. It was just as they reached this door, that Voldemort waved his wand and summoned a pair of shoes onto Harry's bare feet. Harry was vaguely pleased to see they were his own worn pair of Converse trainers, though Harry wondered why the Dark Lord thought he needed them all of a sudden.

They continued through the door and down a winding staircase, and Harry's silent question was answered when they reached the bottom and something crunched under Harry's feet. The wet, moldy stone floor was littered with tiny pieces of broken glass that glittered in the torch light and sharp rocks and pebbles that looked as though they could do some real damage. Harry shuddered with the thought of what walking through this place bare foot would do to one's feet, or if one was dragged through here, like he was sure most prisoners would be. The atmosphere of the place was dark and gloomy, he could hear whimpering and crying coming from some of the cells that he forced himself not to look into, as he was lead down the passageway between cells. What hit him most about the dungeons was the smell; this place had obviously never been cleaned, ever. He could smell the rot and putrifaction, the blood, feces, urine and vomit; the general filth of humans and animals. There were rats all over the place, insects crawling everywhere, even some small magical creatures that Harry knew could be devilishly cruel little things; like the doxies and the pixies, who were carnivorous and had really sharp teeth. Everything was intended to make this place as horrible, painful and depressing as possible. Harry thought it was positively traumatizing, and he wasn't even being kept as a prisoner down here.

'Sirius and Remus are down here somewhere,' Harry found himself thinking, despairingly.

Harry made the mistake of looking up further from the ground, that was covered in more than just glass, rocks and mold - there were other things he didn't even want to think about identifying - he saw that there were numerous torture devices around, Magical and Muggle. He had to cover his mouth to hold in his lunch when he noticed on one device there was someone still attached to it; someone who had clearly died and had been there for quite a while; fortunately or unfortunately, he hadn't been there long enough for the rats and decay to finish cleaning the flesh from the bones.

He couldn't help himself, he had to if he didn't want to puke; he turned into Voldemort's side and buried his face into his robes, allowing the Dark Lord to lead him forward to whatever the hell he wanted to show Harry in this disgusting and terrifying place. Suddenly, he found himself extremely glad that Voldemort wanted him for something more than to just torture and kill him, otherwise he would be staying down here as well.

Harry gave a startled yelp, when a hand reached between the bars and grabbed his ankle. He'd almost fallen over onto the pain-inducing floor, if not for Voldemort holding him up. An unfamiliar male voice started pleading with Harry to save him, pleading with the Dark Lord to release him, spewing apologies and making empty or impossible promises to make up for what he'd done. The Dark Lord growled angrily, and with one swipe of his wand, the arm of the hand that was holding onto Harry, was severed from the body it was attached to. The man screamed and blood spewed, covering Harry's shoes and trouser legs. And that was it, Harry lost his control over his gag reflex and puked all over the floor. Again, the only thing that was holding him up was Voldemort, who sighed wearily.

"First timers," the Dark Lord lamented. "I suppose, I should have given you a little more time to digest your food before bringing you down here." He pointed his wand at Harry's face, casting a spell that cleaned and freshened his mouth (leaving Harry wondering in the back of his mind why he had been bothering with a toothbrush all this time, if there was a spell that did the same thing more efficiently).

"Why did you bring me down here at all?!" Harry asked, his voice wavering. He forced his eyes away from the severed limb, to look up at the Dark Lord's amused face.

"You'll see," Voldemort answered simply, pulling Harry along further, until they reached the last few cells in the row. They were by far the smallest cells; only three feet wide by four feet deep. Three of them were occupied by people Harry had hoped to never see again.

Upon their arrival into the Dark Lord's dungeons, the house elves had done as they were trained to do and had locked the Dursleys up in the cells, with chains and shackles keeping them tethered to the wall, leaving them unable to do anything but stand on their toes. Their shoes and personal effects were taken from them, leaving them bare foot and in dirty burlap robes. When Harry was in sight, the occupants of the cells started yelling and screaming at him, rattling their chains. Vernon started spitting insults at Harry and promises of pain directed at both Harry and the Dark Lord.

"Freak! I knew you were nothing but trouble! You hear me! Release us! How dare you kidnap normal people like us!" Vernon continued to shout, causing Harry to cringe, as his uncle's face turned purple with rage. Voldemort saw through the link he shared with Harry, that Harry was thinking about all the times his uncle had screamed like this and how it had always ended with him lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood, with Harry's magic being the only thing that kept him alive. "You useless freak! I should have killed you the night you were left on my doorstep! I should have thrown you into the trash where you belong, but I didn't! I allowed you to stay in my home with my NORMAL family, we took care of you! Gave you food, shelter and clothing, and this is the thanks you give us!?" Harry cowered behind Voldemort, gripping the sleek black robes. Voldemort raised his wand and silenced all three of the Dursleys.

"Excuse me, did you just say you took care of him? Fed him? And you honestly call giving him your sons old rags clothing him?" The Dark Lord hissed at Vernon, his eyes crimson as he stared down his nose at the fat whale of a man, who looked as though he were stuffed into the cell. He was so fat, he didn't even fit into his prison cell. "I know everything about Harry's life with you and your filthy Muggle family. You didn't take care of him! You did the same thing every other Muggle does when faced with something you fear and don't understand. You used him and abused him, you starved him and beat him and belittled him. Him! Harry Potter, one of the most powerful wizards in the world? The boy who has managed to thwart my every move since the day he was born." Petunia's eyes widened in realization, Vernon's brow furrowing as he thought, slowly coming to same conclusion. Dudley had no idea what was going on. Voldemort smiled smugly, twirling his wand between his fingers. "Oh, yes, allow me to introduce myself. I am the Dark Lord Voldemort. I killed Lily and James Potter, as well as numerous other witches and wizards, and countless muggles. Anyone who got in my way." Vernon and Petunia paled considerably. "So far, the only two people who have managed to get away from me alive are Albus Dumbledore and none other than our own dear sweet Harry Potter." He twirled his wand again and pointed it at Vernon and silently sent the _Cruciatus Curse_ at the tub of lard. Since he was still silenced, Vernon thrashed in his chains, his mouth gaping with muted screams.

Voldemort wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders, pulling him out from behind him and holding him against his side. Harry's eyes zeroed in on Vernon's thrashing and twitching form. A wave of empathy went through him but it was steamrolled by an overwhelming sense of satisfaction. He felt sorry for anyone who had to go through such pain, but seeing his uncle like this? To see his worst tormentor, writhing in pain inflicted upon him for Harry's own justice? Harry couldn't help but feel vindicated by it. Voldemort released the curse, letting Vernon slump in his bonds. He turned to Harry, pulling him forward, positioning him in front of him, facing the prisoners. He wrapped his arms around Harry's waist, putting his chin on Harry's shoulder. He took Harry's right hand and put the yew wand into the palm, wrapping Harry's fingers around the handle. He wrapped his own hand around Harry's, gripping the wand.

Harry gasped, as he felt the power thrumming through his hand and arm; the pull of the eager wand to be used for the most powerful spells, the magic flowing from Voldemort's hand, mixing with his own and connecting with the wand's phoenix feather core. Harry shuddered at the feeling, the magic crackling along his and Voldemort's skin. The feeling of their magic mixing, the heady aura of the mixture around the both of them was intoxicationg. There was the scent of ozone as the crackling magic heightened and became visible, looking very much like lightning zapping around and over them. Voldemort groaned in appreciation, gripping his hand more tightly around Harry's, pointing the wand at Vernon.

"Punish him," the Dark Lord purred into Harry's ear. "He deserves it for everything he's done to you. All those times he almost killed you, and would have killed you had you not been a wizard. Even the Ministry would sentence him to life in Azkaban, or even the _Kiss_, for what he's done. But, now you have the opportunity to take your own revenge. On him, on her and on their spawn. They are yours to do with as you please." Voldemort smiled as he felt Harry shudder again. "You know the spell, Harry, all you have to do is say it. Put all of your intent and anger behind it. Give them the same pain they gave you. It's only fair."

He wanted to, so badly. He wanted to make his uncle hurt the way he'd made Harry hurt. A flutter of anticipation when through his core and Harry's breath hitched and he started shaking his head. He tried to pull his hand away, to drop the wand, to get away from Voldemort, to get out of the dungeon. He needed air! He started panting and yanking his hand out of the Dark Lord's. Voldemort relented, letting Harry pull away. He would get the boy to accept his new role eventually, but it's best not to push too hard. He let Harry run away from him, up the stairs and out of the dungeon. It didn't matter where Harry went; he wouldn't be able to leave the grounds and any dangerous rooms were closed to him. The only potential problems might come from the Death Eaters that were present in the castle. He hadn't checked to see if Bellatrix was able to get out of bed yet; something he really should have been keeping an eye on. Bellatrix would no doubt want revenge on Harry, for using so many hexes on her that conflicted with each other to the point of causing her to be bedridden with incurable boils, stomach flu-like symptoms, and her hair seemed to be permanently hot pink.

The Dark Lord smiled darkly at the back of Harry as he ran away, then he turned his attention to the Muggles. He raised his wand and released the silencing charm on the three of them. Petunia was sobbing, while Dudley was just confused and afraid and thus, silent. Vernon was quickly starting to turn purple again. Voldemort pointed his wand at him again.

"It would be wise to keep that mouth of yours shut," the Dark Lord warned. Vernon narrowed his eyes, but stayed silent, his moustache rippling with his heavy angry breaths. "You've gone too long allowing yourself to say whatever you damn well please. Soon, you'll realize your mistakes and learn your place. Not only have you hurt a truly innocent child, but a magical one at that. Add to that just who he is, and you've sealed your own fate the very first time you raised your hand against him."

"I don't understand," Petunia squeaked. "Why do you care what we've done to the boy? I thought you wanted him dead? In his letter, Dumbledore said something about a prophecy or some such nonsense, that made you want to kill him."

"I did want him dead," Voldemort confessed. "Until I learned what the whole prophecy was. I find that it's fulfilled. It was fulfilled that very night I killed Lily and James Potter." Voldemort smirked. "After hearing the whole thing, I was just going to make sure Harry stayed occupied and away from the front lines, but then a very skilled Potions Master invented a few very handy new potions. Potions that allow a male to bear children." He smiled at the disgusted looks on the Dursleys' faces. He flung the _Cruciatus Curse_ at Petunia when she dared to call he and Harry freaks again. He released it fairly quickly, leveling a glare at all three of them. "I find that these potions present a unique opportunity that I will not pass up." He smiled again, the smile taking on an edge of insanity. "Think about it!" he said, taking a step closer to the bars of Petunia's cell. "A child born of two of the world's mightiest wizards: Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort. The child would be exceptionally gifted, even stronger than the both of us, unrivaled by any other, he or she could do or be anything. They could be omnipotent. They could be a conqueror, a King or a Queen, an Emperor, a beacon of Wizarding civilization. Someone who could crush their enemies with ease, stomp on those who are beneath them. And if that child is mine, that would be everyone! Everyone would be beneath them. With them in the world, Magic will grow and flourish, it will prosper and shower the world with its gifts, creating more and more wizards and witches. Someday, Muggles like you will be a thing of the past, and humans will be as they should be; magical." He took a step back and took in a deep breath. "And it all starts with at least one extraordinarily powerful leader. Though, if I have any say in it, there will not be only one but several." He gave a mirthless laugh. "And if I can perfect my methods of immortality, Harry and I will both be around to see the world take the shape it is meant to be." With that, he smirked and turned away from the dumbstruck Muggles and left the Dursleys to hang in their cells, instead heading for the cells that held Harry's godfathers.

**TBC**


	8. Chapter 8: Magic

**NEXT CHAPTER IS UP! Enjoy and reviews make chapters write themselves faster. ;)**

* * *

"Speech."

'Thoughts.'

"~Parseltongue.~"

_Spells and potions._

**+Chapter 8: Magic+**

**-Slytherin Castle, somewhere in Ireland. Same day, late afternoon.-**

Harry ran and ran and ran, through the corridors and halls and rooms, trying to find a door that lead outside or a balcony or even a window that opened. Eventually he found one on the main level that lead to the back garden. Once outside and standing on the damp March grass, Harry collapsed to his knees. He choked back a sob or gag, he wasn't sure which it was. He was disgusted with himself. He hated how he'd wanted to hurt his uncle so badly, he hated how he loved the way Voldemort's magic felt mixed with his own. He shuddered in remembrance of the intensity.

But he hated how weak he felt too. He realized that Voldemort was right, Vernon did deserve to be punished for what he'd done to his nephew. Isn't that how you always heard about child abuse? A parent or guardian hurting their child, then getting sent to prison for it.

Harry just sat there, panting and trying not to cry. It was all just too much. Too much happening at once. Just yesterday he was at Hogwart's, laughing with his friends, the world was business as usual. He'd been trying to convince everyone that Voldemort was back and he thought Voldemort wanted him dead, and he had to train himself and his friends to be able to fight in battle. Now? Now he was stuck in Voldemort's home, Voldemort wanted to fuck him and get him pregnant, his Muggle family was in the dungeons and so were his godfathers. The creepiest thing was that Voldemort was being relatively NICE to him. Now, he'd almost used dark magic to torture his uncle and he'd LIKED it when Voldemort touched him.

Several long minutes passed, as Harry just sat there, kneeling on the wet and muddy ground, trying to force his mind to work through all the information. His mind was numb and slow; 'overloaded' Hermione would say. The minutes turned into hours, as the cloudy sky got dimmer and it started to rain lightly, but still he sat there. He sat there, thinking things over and dreading going back inside, back to Voldemort. He wondered when the dark wizard would force him to take the next dose of that potion; sometime tonight, was all he knew for sure. Then another realization hit him, blindsiding him as he thought things through. In less than a year, he'd be a father... mother... whatever, he'd have a child of his own. He was only fifteen, would be sixteen. On his next birthday, he would be fat and pregnant. He would be going through one of the most difficult things in his life and he wasn't even sure he would have his friends or family there to help him. Probably not, he'd have been lucky if Voldemort let Remus and Sirius out of the dungeon to be around him. He wouldn't have his best friends to lean on, to cry to or to scream at, he wouldn't have the Weasleys to spoil him with food and affection. No, he was going to be stuck there with smelly old Snake Face and his Corpse Munchers!

Harry could feel his anger starting to simmer, when he heard squelching footsteps coming up to him, and he looked up at the loping figure. "What are you doing out here, cub?" asked the voice of Fenrir Greyback. Harry stared up at him, feeling his mind being blown again. Fenrir Greyback; Britain's most feared alpha werewolf, talking to Harry with a worried tone in his voice.

"I just needed some air," Harry croaked, his hair and clothes were getting soaked through and sticking to him, as the rain got heavier. Fenrir honestly thought he looked like an abandoned puppy left out in the rain.

"Up you get," Fenrir said, reaching to pull Harry up by his arm. "It's getting too dark out here for defenseless little puppies to wander around unattended." He steered Harry around and back into the building. Closing the door firmly behind them, Fenrir snapped his fingers, summoning a house elf.

The house elf that popped up in front of them, Luffy, squeaked in worry and started dragging Harry along down the hall, babbling about the state of him. Admonishing him for staying outside in the rain, admonishing himself for not noticing he was out there, worrying what the Dark Lord would say, but mostly just babbling about getting Harry some fresh clothes and getting him some warm food and a cup of tea. Harry was tugged along up to Voldemort's chambers, where he was shoved through the door and straight through to the bathroom, where there was already a hot bath waiting for him. Before Harry knew it, the house elf had magicked his clothes off and dumped him into the warm soapy water that was layered with a tremendous amount of bubbles. There were so many bubbles, Harry almost disappeared amidst them, since they literally came up to his ears. The warmth woke Harry from his numbed state, and he allowed himself to break down and cry. Harry sat in the huge bath tub, hugging his knees to his chest and burying his face against his knees. He let himself cry for several minutes, until a big warm hand settled on his shoulder. Harry gasped and whipped around to come face to face with a blank-faced Voldemort. Though, he could have sworn he saw a bit of concern in those eyes that were sporting a deep blue.

"Luffy informed me that you'd been sitting outside in the rain," the Dark Lord stated. He sat on the edge of the tub and turned to watch Harry. He observed his soon-to-be lover's face for a few moments. "I know that this is all a lot to take in, that there are many things worrying you right now; your future, the future of your friends and loved ones. But you don't need to worry so much. I intend to do everything I can to make you happy - within reason. So, let me say a few things to ease your mind a bit. I know that you're worried about the task I have given to you, and I can understand your apprehension, but it's going to happen one way or another, so you might as well accept it and get used to it. As for everything else, if there is anything you want or need, materialistically, all you have to do is ask. I can't allow you to leave this castle yet because it is too dangerous, but eventually, I may trust you with more freedom and trust others with your care. And before you ask, no, you may not visit any of your friends, but if you really want to see them, I can make that happen without any harm coming to them. I can bring them here to see you for as long as you want them to stay, then they will be taken home. And if you wish it, I will make sure you have nothing more to do with the war, but you are welcome to help shape the future any way you wish, as long as you do not fight against me, but I will listen if you have any ideas or advice. I have told you my true goals, and they are the truth. I don't want to spill any magical blood, if I can help it, but the Wizarding World needs to change or it will die." Voldemort slid off the edge of the tub, to sit on the floor, so he was level with Harry's face. "I know you want to accuse me of lying, because it would be easier for you to understand, but I know you feel that what I say is the truth. I know you can feel Lady Magic the same way I do, you can feel Her dying just a little bit, year by year. She's withering away. When I was your age, She was so much stronger, but now She seems almost a weak old woman, in comparison. She has had to show Her favor to fewer and fewer wizards, even going so far as to cut witches and wizards off from Her entirely, creating more and more Squibs. Things have to change, Harry. I hope I can count on you in the future to help me make sure Our Lady doesn't die, to help me make Her stronger again. Magic must be used for it to stay strong, Harry, all branches of it must be explored for it to grow. Dark, Light, Gray, and everything in between. As things are, Dark Magic is banned, all of it, when it doesn't need to be. The Ministry should hold those who use it wrong accountable for their actions, not punish us all for the actions of a few. There are wizards who are better suited to using Dark Magic than they are using any other kind, and banning them from using it is only making them weaker and vulnerable. Very few wizards are able to use any kind of magic they wish, I am one of them, but I have an affinity for Dark. I believe you are one of them as well, but you have an affinity for Light. We can't let Magic die because of ignorance. What would we be without Magic?

"Did you know, that there really is no such thing as a Muggle? They are all Squibs, born from a long line of more Squibs. Squib bloodlines so long, they've forgotten their own magical heritage. It's been thousands of years, since Our Lady was first forsaken for false gods. It's only been getting worse since then. More and more nonsense religions that hold no real merit, that serve no purpose other than to comfort all those weak people out there who are too ashamed of their own actions to take responsibility for them. People who are too afraid to help those they care about with their own hands; instead praying to some made up god to do it for them, to comfort those who are too afraid of their own mortality to face it or do something to change it."

"But you're afraid of your mortality, aren't you?" Harry asked.

"A little, but I'm not about to go pray to some nonexistant deity to make my passage into the afterlife more bearable," Voldemort answered, giving a wry smile. "I'm searching for a way to stop it. I'm part way there, but I have yet to attain true immortality. I've attained eternal youth easily enough, but unfortunately, I can still die."

"Why are you so afraid of dying?" Harry asked.

"Why aren't you?" Voldemort countered. The Dark Lord sighed, reaching a hand forward to caress Harry's cheek. "I'm not so much afraid of dying, as I am afraid of dying before I can finish my work. I'm sure there will come a day when I wouldn't mind finally letting go of life, but it won't be for a long, long time." He paused, rubbing his thumb across Harry's cheek bone. "I would like it, if you would stay with me as well."

Harry's breath hitched. "Why?"

"I'm not sure," the Dark Lord confessed. "But, now that you're here, I can feel that Lady Magic wants us together. And who am I to question Her?"

"What about love?"

The Dark Lord stared for a moment, then shrugged. "I don't know, I've never experienced it before." He smirked. "But I hear that's something you're very good at. Loving others."

Harry stared at Voldemort for a long moment, observing the honest and thoughtful expression on the Dark Lord's face, wondering when the last time was that he allowed himself to talk like this, if ever. Coming to a partial decision, Harry spoke. "You'll let me help where I can?" Voldemort's eyes widened fractionally and he nodded. "You'll let me see my friends?" Another nod. "What about Sirius and Remus?"

"They're still in the dungeons," Voldemort answered. "I will allow them out of the dungeons and give them their own rooms, but I'm having a bit of difficulty coming to an agreement with them first. They are fiercely protective of you." He paused a moment. "I suppose I could use that to my advantage."

"You haven't hurt them, have you?" Harry asked, giving the Dark Lord a pleading look.

"Not much," Voldemort confessed. "Only a short _Cruciatus Curse _when Black tried to attack me."

Harry sighed a little in relief. "Have you told them what your real goals are? The details?" Harry asked.

"No."

"You should. I'm sure they will be much more cooperative if they know you're not just some madman who is bent on killing everyone. Sirius should understand best what it is you want to do, he was raised to be Lord of the Black family, after all. Have you told them about what you want from me yet?"

"No, I figured it might be counterproductive." Voldemort sighed.

"It would be. Don't tell them that yet, let me break that to them. Especially Remus, he thinks of me as his cub. He'll take better to the situation if I tell him, he won't be inclined to attack me. You, on the other hand, he'll try to rip apart." Harry hesitated a moment, then looked boldly into Voldemort's eyes. "I will try to cooperate. Though, I'm not sure what to make of the fact you want to have children with me and I can't guarantee that I won't try to run away when you touch me. And I can't guarantee I won't freak out if you do something weird or unexpected, nor can I guarantee that I won't get angry at you if you do something excessively cruel or manipulative. And please, don't make me watch you hurt anyone again. Even if they are my relatives, even if they deserve it, I don't want to see it. I hate seeing other people in pain." Harry paused a moment. "Also, I do reserve the right to punish or retaliate against your Death Eaters, if they do or say something stupid, or something that makes me angry. I promise not to hurt them. ...Well, nothing that can't be reversed, anyway. That is if and when you decide to give me my wand back."

"Fair enough," Voldemort agreed, his voice carrying a slight tremor of disbelief, and maybe a little humor. "I will have to give you your wand back at some point, and soon, if I want you to continue your education." Harry's eyes widened, and Voldemort hastened to add, "Here. I will teach you the Magic you need to know." Voldemort paused a moment, observing Harry carefully. "You do realize that you're going to have to let me touch you at some point soon? Within the next ten days?"

"Yes," Harry answered, fidgeting. "I just... It's weird. I'm so used to you trying to kill me. There are a lot of things that I may never be able to forgive you for, but regardless, I will try to give you at least some of my trust." Harry swallowed a lump in his throat. "Did you see all of my childhood memories?"

"No, only the ones that stood out the most."

"Did you see what my uncle made me do sometimes, when Aunt Petunia was out shopping?"

He would never admit it, but at that moment, Voldemort felt his heart sink and his fury rise. "No. I thought those Weasley twins were the ones who took your virginity?"

"They were! Uncle Vernon never went that far. He only ever made me use my mouth, and it only happened a couple times, but I still have a slight problem with intimacy because of it. If you'd paid attention to all those so-called trysts you saw, you would've noticed that all the people I was with I had trusted to some degree."

"Even the Malfoy brat?"

Harry snorted. "I don't really trust Malfoy, per se. I can however trust him to be himself. He will always be Draco Malfoy, the insufferable git who will do anything to get a rise out of me. Plus, he wouldn't have been able to brag about shagging me without revealing to the whole school that he's bent, or revealing to his lover that he'd cheated on him. Even though the whole school knows that he's bent, anyway. He and Blaise Zabini try to hide that they're together, but they aren't always very good at it, even if they are Slytherins."

"Malfoy and Zabini?" Voldemort mused, pushing down his fury temporarily.

"You didn't hear it from me!" Harry said. Harry took a deep breath and sighed. "I also didn't actually do anything with most of those people you saw. I made out with a few of them, but I only ever slept with three of them, two of which were the Twins, because I could trust them to take care of me with it being my first time and I knew they wouldn't expect anything more from me. Then the other times after that, it was just to make ourselves feel better with how awful life has been at school this year. Malfoy... I guess our emotions got the better of us. It started out as a fist fight, then somehow it turned into a fondling and snogging session, and it just went from there."

Voldemort scoffed. "He's still going to suffer. Have you warmed up enough?" he asked, changing the subject before he could get even more angry and do something that would destroy the rapport he was building with Harry. Harry nodded. "Then get dressed, it's time for dinner. We can talk more later." Voldemort stood up and moved to lean against the wall.

Harry went to stand but stopped and looked at Voldemort, who was staring at him. "Um, could you turn around or something?" he asked, blushing.

"No," the Dark Lord answered, staring intently at Harry with a huge smirk on his face. Harry blushed deeper, fidgeting and looking away, staying seated with his body hidden underneath all the bubbles. "Don't be bashful, I've already seen most of it and very soon I will see all of it anyway. Might as well get it over with." Harry still hesitated, so Voldemort took the decision out of his hands and waved his wand, unstoppering the drain.

"Hey!" Harry shouted, trying desperately to cover himself with bubbles as the water level got lower and lower. "That's cheating!"

"I'm a Dark Lord," Voldemort answered simply with a smirk, as though this explained everything. Once the water was drained, there were still quite a few lingering bubbles covering parts of Harry's body, who was still curled up in a ball to try and hide his dignity. But Voldemort waved his wand again, vanishing the bubbles from Harry's body. Harry squeaked and tried to cover himself with his hands, glaring up at the smug Dark Lord. Voldemort snagged a towel from the rack and walked over to Harry and handed him the fluffy green bath towel. Harry snatched it and quickly wrapped it around his waist. "Luffy has left you some of my robes for you to wear, they have been resized to fit you. I will see about retrieving your possessions tomorrow. I do seem to have a snooping Potions Master hanging around, I might send him to get your things. As well as your godfathers' things, they'll need them eventually."

"You mean Snape?" Harry asked, following Voldemort out of the bathroom.

"Yes," Voldemort answered, plopping down into a chair to watch and wait for Harry to get dressed.

Harry glowered at him, moving over to the bed, where the clothes were layed out. He glared at Voldemort, clutching his towel tightly around him. Voldemort only smiled, with a lusty glint in his eyes. Harry huffed and turned away, pushing down his embarrassment long enough for him to drop his towel and get dressed as quickly as possible.

'With all these scars, how can he possibly like what he sees?' Harry asked himself. 'Wait, this is Voldemort we're talking about; he likes creating scars, so of course, he would like to see them too. Weirdo.'

The Dark Lord snickered a little behind his hand. Harry snapped around to glare at him. "Stop reading my mind!"

"I can't help it, sometimes!" Voldemort defended, a shit-eating grin on his face. Harry's only response was to darken his glare and think pointedly of an image of himself smacking Voldemort over the head with a heavy text book, the way Hermione always did to him and Ron whenever they deserved it.

Voldemort chuckled at the image and stood from his seat, reaching out a hand for Harry to take. "Shall we?" he asked, observing Harry in the robes that were provided for him. Even resized, the robes didn't quite fit right. He would definitely have to get Severus to retrieve Harry's belongings, or he might just have to invite Narcissa Malfoy over with her personal tailor. He might do that anyway, if only to watch Harry deal with a Malfoy who was exuberantly shopping for clothes, and they'd acquire some robes befitting someone of Harry's status as a bonus.

Harry reached and took Voldemort's hand, wincing slightly as the everpresent pain in his scar flared up.

The Dark Lord squeezed his hand gently. "Yes, I'm looking into that. I can't have you in constant pain whenever I'm near. Though, I believe there is only one way to make the pain stop."

"What way is that?" Harry asked.

"We'll talk about it later, after I've exhausted all other options," Voldemort told him. Harry looked up at Voldemort with a frown. He looked away and decided to drop it, even though he really hated it when people kept things from him. The Dark Lord gently rolled back the sleeve of Harry's robe, to reveal the bandage that was still around his hand, that was now wet. He unwrapped it from Harry's hand and tossed the dirty bandage into the fire, before he looked down at the words carved into Harry's hand. "How did you get this?"

Harry sighed tiredly, letting the Dark Lord inspect his injured hand. It was bleeding again, now that the water had loosened the scabs that had finally formed. "The new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Dolores Umbridge, she's not a very nice person. I think she hates children, so I don't know why she wanted to teach at the school, even if she was put there by the Ministry. At first she only did this to me in my detentions, but when Dumbledore was run out of the school, she started doing it to all of the students. She made us use Blood Quills to do lines. She never told us how many lines to do, just that we should keep writing them for 'however long it takes for the message to sink in', she said. The other students have only had to do a few detentions with the Blood Quills, so their's heal over pretty well. Mine on the other hand, it won't close up properly anymore, since I've been in her detentions every night for the better part of the school year." Harry stopped and winced, hissing in pain as it seared through his head, this time from Voldemort's anger. He looked up at Voldemort's face, noticing that his eyes had changed to red again.

"She did this to all of the students?" Voldemort asked in a low voice. Harry nodded. "What did she punish all of the students for? It's not possible that all of the students at Hogwart's misbehaved all at once severely enough to deserve detention."

"Well, once she took up the post as Headmistress, she kept changing the rules; making them more and more strict. And she'd made up this group of students that she called the 'Inquisitorial Squad', gave them the privilege to give and take house points and assign detentions; most of the students in this squad were Slytherins, including Draco Malfoy, who takes a sick pleasure in getting anyone into trouble, even playing it up to make it seem worse than it really is. So many students got detention, that she started having mass detention sessions in the Great Hall. And they gave detentions for even the smallest of things. Umbridge herself gave a first year detention simply for having his shoe lace untied. She gave a detention to Hermione for handing in an essay that was too long," Harry started going on a rant. "Ron got a detention for laughing in the hallway. Neville got a detention for tripping over someone else's schoolbag. She gave detentions to anyone she saw holding a wand outside of class, even in class in some cases, even when the person holding the wand wasn't even casting any spells. Detentions were given to any girl who dared to put her hair up in anything other than a pony tail. Detentions for not wearing the school uniform properly, and her idea of improper was tying your tie just wrong enough that it was even a centimeter too long or too short. She walked around with a tape measure in her pocket, for pity's sake! She gave detentions to my friends simply for being MY friends! She even made sure my detentions ran so late, that she could give me more detentions for being out of bed after hours, making me lose not only sleep but meals as well. Needless to say, Hogwart's hasn't been the greatest place to be for the last couple of months. She's been destroying the whole Hogwart's experience for everyone. She removed all the paintings and tapestries from the walls. She had her own voice reciting the rules on an infinite loop all through the corridors, even at night. She turned all the drapes and carpets pink." Harry shivered. "She made all of the moving staircases stay in one place. She's been restricting all of the creatures in the Forbidden Forest. She's expelled several students who didn't deserve to be expelled. She had all familiars, besides owls and cats, banned from the school. She even personally killed some familiars that didn't get sent home soon enough. She banned visits to Hogsmeade. She was even working with the Minister to get Dementors to guard the school on a permanent basis," Harry finished, a frustrated and outraged look on his face. "Can you believe, she was even planning to have all of the ghosts in the castle exorcised?"

"I will deal with her," Voldemort stated. "It's one thing to punish children for doing something wrong. It's a different thing to punish magical children with something like a Blood Quill for doing even the worst of things, but especially if it's for made up infractions. I knew you were getting detentions, but I didn't know they were like this. Mister Malfoy seems to have left this part out of his reports. I will deal with him as well. Killing another wizard's familiar is sacrilege in itself, that she would do it multiple times and to the familiars of children, is another case altogether. And she wouldn't have been able to exorcise the ghosts, since they are all tied into the magic of the castle; the magic that keeps the wards up and the castle standing. She would have to knock the whole building down to get rid of those ghosts. I am sure that castle will be restored to its original state soon enough." He used his wand to conjure up a new bandage to put around Harry's hand. "I will have Severus brew the right salves to heal this." After he finished wrapping Harry's hand, he waved his wand over the bruises and cuts that were still around Harry's wrists from the shackles, healing them in an instant. He then went down on one knee and lifted Harry's bare foot, raising the ankle of his trousers enough so that he could heal the cuts and bruises on his ankle as well.

Harry hid a smile, as the Dark Lord released his foot and stood. He summoned Harry's shoes onto his feet again; clean and dry, thanks to Luffy. They both noticed that the worn old Converse clashed with the pristine black robes, but Voldemort would fix that tomorrow.

Voldemort took Harry's hand again and led him out of their bedroom (yeah, the Dark Lord was now referring to the bedroom as theirs), leading him to the dining room they had eaten lunch in earlier. He pulled Harry's chair out for him, making Harry blush again. Once they were both seated, the food appeared. It was a simple meal, but there was plenty of it to fill their stomachs. Voldemort even put extra food on Harry's plate, now that he knew Harry was used to going hungry, and as a result didn't eat enough at meals.

Once they were finished eating, they retired to the bedroom, lounging on the settee in front of the fire. Harry drank a butterbeer, while Voldemort had a glass of Ogden's Finest Firewhiskey, and Harry told him more about Umbridge, and tried to tell him more about his relatives. Eventually, Harry was in such a depressed mood (worsened by the small amount of alcohol in the butterbeer), that it was filtering over their link, so Voldemort changed the subject; getting Harry to talk about his friends instead. He had to admit that from what he'd heard, he liked this Hermione Granger. She seemed to have the same ideals as he did, only she didn't know it. 'It might be a good idea to get her on my side,' he thought.

"What does Miss Granger want to do with her life after school? Do you know?" Voldemort asked.

"She said she wanted to work at the Ministry, she wants to help change the creature laws. She hates the way house elves are treated, and she hates how Remus is forced to live. She thinks the laws we have for creatures right now are too stifling for those creatures. I can't help but agree with her," Harry said, starting to ramble a little bit from the alcohol. "Remus is a brilliant man, he was the best Defense professor we've had, but he had to resign because too many parents wanted him away from their children. Even though he was taking the _Wolfsbane Potion_ and he was going to a secure location all three nights of every full moon, just to be sure. He can barely afford the _Wolfsbane Potion_, much less buy himself food or decent clothing. It's completely unfair. The only reason he's doing as well as he is, is because he and Sirius are together. Though, neither of them will admit to that out loud, but they can't really keep something like that from me, or anyone really. They're worse than Malfoy and Zabini are at hiding their relationship. Though, with these potions, I'm hoping the prejudice against homosexuals will go away. Then they could all be together, without being judged. I wonder if Slughorn is going to come up with a way for two women to make babies? That would be easier wouldn't it? Because they already have the right parts for it."

Voldemort smiled as he listened to Harry talk. "It's a possibility, we'll just have to see what the future holds on that front." He put his glass down on the coffee table and moved to sit closer to Harry on the settee. He took the glass from Harry and set it down as well. "You don't seem to have a very high tolerance for alcohol, if you can get drunk on butterbeer."

Harry pouted. "Shut up! I've never really drank any alcohol before. And whenever I went to Hogsmeade, I would only ever share a butterbeer with Hermione and Ron."

Voldemort reached a hand to tilt Harry's chin up, then leaned in to kiss Harry's pouting lip. He leaned back to see the dumbfounded look on the teenager's face, smirked, and went back in for a rougher kiss. Harry gasped and the small amount of alcohol made him want to kiss back, so he did. Voldemort leaned over Harry, pushing him back against the arm of the settee, and letting his hands roam over the body beneath him, as he intensified the kiss. When Harry moaned softly and wrapped his arms around the Dark Lord's neck, Voldemort started to undo Harry's robes. He was just starting to trail kisses down his neck, to the hickey he'd left earlier, when Harry went limp under him. He pulled back and groaned, sighing heavily and sitting back on the settee with a small pout on his face (that he would never admit to), and glared at the sleeping teenager. He sighed again and fished the two phials of potion out of his pocket. He used a spell that mediwizards use on unconscious patients, to summon the potions into Harry's stomach. He gave him both the pregnancy potion and the sleeping draught, then stood and picked up the too-light teenager, carrying him over to the bed and tucking him in. When he was finished, he put one more kiss to Harry's lips, before he turned and left the room.

He made his way down to his throne room and sat in his over-sized throne.

"Wormtail!" he shouted. The sniveling rat rushed into the room a minute later and bowed in front of him.

"Y-yes, M-master?" Wormtail stuttered.

"Give me your arm," the Dark Lord ordered. Wormtail nearly tripped over himself to pull back his sleeve and get closer to his Master. Voldemort pressed his finger to Dark Mark and summoned two of his Death Eaters. "Now, go away. And stay out of the dungeons and away from Black and Lupin!" Voldemort was still angry that he'd found Wormtail down there earlier, torturing the two men. He'd delivered some real pain to the little rat before he forbade him from going into the dungeons again and sent him away. He even allowed Black to laugh at the fat snivelling bastard for a while, whilst trying to convince the two to join him. That conversation ended when he'd refused to speak of Harry, then foolishly healed the two's worst wounds, and Black launched himself at him. He'd left Black twitching on the gritty floor with a promise to visit them again tomorrow.

It took about ten minutes for Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape to arrive in his throne room. The two bowed at his feet and waited for him to speak.

"What do you know of Dolores Umbridge?" Voldemort asked the two. They both visibly tensed before looking up at him.

"She was the latest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," Lucius stated dumbly.

"Yes, I know that part," Voldemort hissed. "Severus, tell me what she did at the school. You know I don't mean her occupation, I mean what she did to the school and its students. Is what Harry told me the truth?"

Snape chewed on his lip a moment. "I don't know what Potter said, but most likely it was the truth."

"Did she torture the students? Physically and mentally?" the Dark Lord asked.

"In a manner of speaking," Snape answered carefully.

"Stop tip-toeing around the subject and tell me exactly what she did!"

Snape flinched and gulped. "She made the students write lines in detention using Blood Quills. She also had a tendency to give the students a dressing down whenever she thought they needed it."

"And the school?"

"She changed the castle and classes as she saw fit," Snape said.

"Lucius, was she really trying to get the Minister to allow dementors to guard the school?"

"Yes, my Lord," Lucius answered slowly.

"Why is it that neither of you thought to tell me any of this?" Voldemort asked. "Why did I have to hear of it from Harry Potter, and not my own Death Eaters? The ones in charge of the school? You two?!" He ended with a shout. Neither of them said anything, just looked down at the ground again. "Lucius, I want that bitch brought here, tonight!"

"Yes, my Lord!" Lucius said, standing and leaving hastily when Voldemort motioned for him to leave.

"Severus, I want you to brew the right potions and salves to heal the wounds on Harry's hand."

"Of course, my Lord, but they are quite expensive to produce," Snape said.

"Yes, and I don't care," Voldemort said through gritted teeth. "And you're going to be a good boy and brew enough for the other students at that school, purely out of the goodness of your heart. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my Lord," Snape muttered, barely meeting his Lord's eyes.

"Those children are the future of the Wizarding World and you let that crazed power-hungry quim abuse them!" Voldemort said, leaning forward to growl the words in Snape's face. "You and Lucius, and now Harry, are the only ones who know what I really want to do with the world. You know, that I don't condone child abuse of any kind. From my Death Eaters or from any others, Magical or Muggle. I don't even harm children myself, unless they pose a real threat, which is a very rare occurrence. Now, I learn today that Harry was left to be abused by his relatives, with the scars to prove it, and that all the other Magical children at Hogwarts were harmed by their own teacher."

Snape stayed silent, processing everything the Dark Lord had just said to him. He didn't really know what to say or think. "I... Potter was abused?" he asked. "I'm sorry, my Lord, but I find that hard to believe."

"Believe it," Voldemort ground out. "I looked into his mind and saw all of it! He has more scars on his body than you could fathom!"

"I never saw any scars," Snape made the mistake of saying, looking up at Voldemort.

"He's been wearing glamours, you twat!" Snape looked away again, shocked that his Lord was so angered by this as to do away with his decorum and use such vulgar language. "You and I were both abused as children, but neither of us ever experienced anything like what he has. We were beaten every few days at least, but he got it severely and on a daily basis; from his family and even some of their neighbors! He has scars from where his uncle whipped him with his belt, burns on his hands from cooking food for his so-called family; food that he was not allowed to eat. Burns all over him that look like they were made my cigars. There's a burn on the palm of his left hand that is in the spiral shape of a Muggle stove, burnt badly enough that there is no way he could have done it himself. There are marks on his arms and torso, that are obviously from a knife, in places that he could not have reached on his own. Words carved into his chest and back; words like 'Freak', 'Devil' and 'Abnormal'. There are scars from stab wounds on his chest, wounds that should have killed him, that would have killed him had his magic not been as powerful as it is. In his memories, I saw when his uncle and his poker buddies got so drunk they made a game out of who could hit him hard enough to knock him out, on more than one occassion. Again, the only thing that saved him from death or severe brain damage was his magic!" Voldemort shifted in his seat. "I killed the neighbors that dared to touch him, his Muggle relatives are in the dungeons right now, and I'm going down there to punish them some more... once I'm finished punishing you for failing to do your job. I assigned you and Lucius to watch over that school and its students. Lucius is an idiot, but you aren't, and you let this happen!" With that, Voldemort pulled out his wand and used the _Cruciatus Curse_ on Snape for a little over a minute. After he was done, he stood over Snape's wheezing form, looking him in the eye. "Now, you will brew the potions I asked for, as well as potions for reducing the appearance of old scars. Burn salves should still heal the burn scars, I'll need those too. _Skele-gro_ to get rid of any mishealed breaks that might remain. And any other potions you might think of that will rid Harry's body of any sign of what those beasts did to him. You have one week to get them all for me." He turned and sat back down in his throne. "And, one more thing, I need you to retrieve Harry's belongings from Hogwarts. All of them, if I find anything missing, I will take it out of your hide. Now get out of my sight!"

Once Snape had left the room, Voldemort waited for Lucius to arrive with Umbridge. He, thankfully, didn't have to wait long. Twenty minutes later, Dolores Umbridge was tied up and sobbing on the floor in front of him. Lucius and the Lestrange brothers were standing behind her, their faces the epitome of indifference.

"Thank you, Gentlemen," Voldemort smiled darkly, his red eyes locked on the pink toad woman in front of him. "You may go." Lucius and the Lestranges bowed and left. Voldemort snapped his fingers, summoning the elf that was in charge of the dungeons. "Chopper, take this... thing to the dungeons, please."

"Yes, Master," Chopper answered, disappearing with a pop, taking Umbridge with him.

The Dark Lord waited a few minutes, to calm himself a little, before he stood up and made his way to the dungeons as well. He had a toad to dissect and a fat whale that needed to be parted from his cock.

**TBC**


End file.
